All These Things That I've Done
by chb76
Summary: Sam crashes back to reality and lashes out at the one person he shouldn't. The hunters attempt to make sense of what awaits. 2 in 1 tag for Crossroad Blues and AHBL 2
1. Chapter 1

**Tag to All Hell Breaks Loose part 2 SPOILERS **

**A/N: **_This was originally going to be an AHBL pt2 tag, a one shot short little thing but as usual it grew a little. I had also planned on doing a Crossroad Blues Tag but after watching a little of it I realised that the parallels between the two eps were too strong to ignore so I did a two in one type thing. Not sure if it works but at least I get to do something a bit different. By different I mean slightly different as in it's still angst and it's still Dean that gets to be angst ridden, although Sam get's to join in too, but the format's a little different. Argh anyway hope you like._

Oh yeah follows on from previous fics with some references. This isn't a song fic but there are teeny tiny references.

Rated T for language. Quite a lot of. Dean really should pick another word.

Quotes taken directly from "Crossroad Blues" are in bold. I own nothing by the way.

**_Summary: Sam crashes back to reality and lashes out at the one person he shouldn't. The hunters attempt to make sense of what awaits. 2 in 1 tag for Crossroad Blues and AHBL 2_ **

**_Characters: Sam, Dean, Bobby and brief appearance from Ellen _**

**Chapter 1 **

**_"I think you did it for yourself. So you wouldn't have to live without her. But guess what she's gonna have to live without you now. What if she knew how much it cost? What if she knew it cost your soul - how do you think she'd feel?"_ **

_He felt sorry for the guy sure. He wanted his wife to not die. Who wouldn't? He didn't want to be left alone to wonder about what could have been so he had done what he thought was a damn good idea at the time. A decision to stop the pain even if it wasn't permanent and to hell with the consequences. Literally. Unfortunately he had seen the other side of the coin and knew that a decision like that was done for one reason only - not for his wife but for him. He had told him as much but Sam had stopped him like the pansy he was, hell he was only trying to point out what a fucked up decision it was. Who makes a deal with the devil for crying out loud except for people in movies and crappy plays about morality?_

_He hadn't meant to hurt the guy's feelings but the urge to set him straight had been overwhelming - I mean who the hell did he think he was fucking Faustus? _

_Unfortunately he had to admit to himself that there was something bugging him about the whole thing and it was poking it's fucking finger into his brain bugging him and bugging him and all he wanted to do was tell it to shut the hell up. Yes, alright he knew, he wasn't fucking stupid. It didn't take a genius to work it out. He'd had an idea for a long time anyway. He'd known that something between his dad and that yellow eyed son of a bitch had gone down and that had been enough to almost fuck him up completely, but he hadn't known everything although a part of him had always suspected. _

_But this case had been screaming at him from the get go and he couldn't ignore it anymore. As if he hadn't had enough shit to deal with knowing his dad was dead because of him he now had to face up to the fact that he had not just sold his soul for him but was actually in Hell. Hell as in Hell with a capital 'H', as in down there, the other place, fire, brimstone, devils with pitch forks, not just stuck in a shitty little hick town and feeling somewhat pissed. He had pretended not to think about that or acknowledge that Hell was an actual place or that his Dad could possibly be there but this case had pretty much fucked all that up and yelled at him: "Hey asshole - your Dad's in Hell because of you moronic piece of shit for brains."_

_Yeah well gee thanks a bunch for that because he really did reminding of how it was his fault and all. It pissed him off that he was supposed to feel grateful when all he ever felt was pissed off. His dad couldn't handle the thought of losing his eldest son because then who the hell was going to look after Sammy and besides parents weren't supposed to outlive their kids were they? How was he supposed to be grateful for being left alone with that knowledge, was he supposed to just keep his chin up and tell himself that hey his Dad was dead sure but at least he still had his health? He wasn't just dead though and now he knew for sure because that bitch had politely informed him of what he already knew and he could tell from the look that Sammy had given him just after he had laid into Evan that he knew too._

_It had pretty much sucked out loud from that point on._

_--------------------------_

It's some time later when it all hits him. Later, after everything had gone to shit and the four of them arrived at Bobby's, to rest and re-group before facing the war that they had allowed to begin. He needs to get started soon because then maybe it will distract him from everything he has to deal with, but he knows that to begin a war with the shape they're in right now would be suicide. Or at least the shape that Dean is in. They can't afford to take stupid risks anymore and they have to be careful because - well because the stakes are much higher now.

He hadn't had the heart to yell at his brother in the graveyard. It's difficult to tear into someone you love when you had been pinned to a tree unable to do anything but watch as they were tormented and mocked. He hadn't heard what it had said to him but he could see his brother's face - that was enough.

Then it had ended. It was an anti climax really. The Demon had been wiped from existence and their life long mission had come to an abrupt end with a whisper and a gurgle like water draining down a plug hole not a cry of triumph. There was no celebrating, no cheers of joy and jubilation and no fan fare just quiet reflection and then it had come to him.

He remembered the look on Bobby's face when they appeared at his front door. He remembered the glances that Dean and Bobby had shared. He remembered the way Bobby had glared at his brother a concealed but unmistakeable hint of fury in his eyes. He remembered the look on Dean's face when he had seen him conscious for the first time. The redness and shadows under his eyes suggested hours of grief and the shedding of private tears that no one had seen. He remembered the hug and the desperation and relief that it held.

In that moment when the truth had revealed itself he had wanted to grab his brother by the collar, to yell his lungs out at him and shake him but Dean had turned to him with eyes that were too weary and beaten and with a look that he never before seen. So he hadn't yelled instead he had told him what he should have told him long ago and hoped it wasn't too little too late and all the while knowing that it was. Even now Dean was oblivious to his worth but maybe if someone had told him exactly what he meant to those around him, to those who loved him then maybe he would never have done something so unthinkable. His mind had been swirling with emotions too high and a relief that was intoxicating and those chemicals in his brain had practically been skipping around singing joyous songs of how everything was going to be lollipops and candy canes from now on.

It was just the chemicals of course and their effects had been temporary and the descent back to reality had been hard, swift and ultimately devastating. Now the chemicals seem to be dragging their feet whining out dirges of woe and misery and they're dragging him down with them.

His own words return to him, his promise to his brother that he would save him no matter what it took but now he thinks how hopeless that sounds and what chance is there of saving the one person who needed and deserved to be saved more than anyone.

He thinks now that it was a foolish thing to say but Dean had looked so broken and lost all he had wanted to do was to take care of him and let him know that somehow they would be ok. But now he doubts if anything will ever be ok again.

He continues to unpack his things in an attempt to feel normal again if only for a few days and he feels a tension in the air that niggles at his subconscious, increasing his irritability without him realising. Darkness in his head - so much darkness and no one to rid him of it. He is tired, he knows that - no exhausted in fact but then it's not every day you are brought back from death to discover that your whole world has been turned on it's head, ripped apart and sucked inside out so that you don't recognise anyway of it and instead of waking up it feels like you have stepped into a nightmare from which there is no waking up. It isn't supposed to be like this, this day was supposed to be the day to end all days but it all starts over again and the weight of it is far too much.

He looks across at his older brother, his sibling, his only surviving family who is flicking through a newspaper like everything is fine, the world didn't just nearly end and he didn't just sell his soul to hell for one pitiful year. His only surviving family who has less days ahead of him than behind and nothing to look forward to in the world beyond except loneliness, fear and pain. No peace, no resting place, no reunion with lost loved ones, just a whole eternity of Hell.

Since finding out the fate of his Dad he had often wondered about Hell and what it was like. He had told himself that maybe it was just emptiness and nothingness and that his Dad had simply ceased to exist and it had helped him carry on even if it was another lie. He sometimes has flashes like pieces of a nightmare which were fleeting and left him with a sense of horror and fear but he could never recall the images that had skipped through his mind as if they were too terrible and hideous for his brain to process.

His body had once been host to a creature of Hell who would have seen these things first hand and he suspects that the images came from that Demon who had made him torture his brother both physically and mentally. He remembers little of the days when his mind wasn't his own but the flashes that come to him from time to time are a constant reminder of the things he had done.

Sometimes he grows afraid that the darkness in his head will consume him and obliterate the man he was, the boy he used to be, Dean's little brother, Sam, Sammy, the youngest Winchester but this was different. This fear, this emptiness was for someone else.

The pain in his head grows and is it fatigue, a result of the collision with a tree, unnatural resurrection syndrome or the irritation initiated by his brother's indifference and he thinks how can he be so relaxed? He throws a shirt on to the bed in that way he knows will get Dean's attention but this time it doesn't.

"You shouldn't have done it."

Dean glances across at him but returns to the paper like he knew he would.

"Did you hear me, Dean?"

"Yeah I heard ya."

He doesn't look up.

"Possibly one of the dumbest things you've ever done. I mean, what were you thinking?"

He turns a page like he thinks he's doing such a great job of pretending to read when it's obvious that he has no idea what the article is about and answers the query as if he's chatting about girls or cars or whatever.

"I wasn't thinking. I had just watched the only family I had left die in front of me and I was a tad pissed. You know how it is."

The black mist in his head continues to swirl and spread mutilating every cell in it's path and he feels no empathy, no sting of guilt and no sliver of conscience he just wants to scream and scream and scream until his throat bleeds and he wants Dean to hear everything.

"I don't even know how to respond to that Dean. You think that makes it ok? You were pissed? You think that's funny? Am I supposed to laugh right about now?"

Dean puts the paper down calmly and glares up him.

"Can we do this some other time? I'm a little tired and you may not have noticed, but my head has seen better days."

Normally Sam would flinch at the hint of anger in his brother tone. The flicker in the light green eyes would be enough to stop him in his tracks but he hasn't felt normal or at least their kind of normal since his spinal cord was severed and his life destroyed, massacred and changed beyond all recognition. He wonders if when Jake cut him with the knife he inadvertently broke the mechanism that always told him when it was time to stop and to settle down before someone's fist collided with his jaw and he's not sure if it's the tiredness, recent events, the fact that he just saw his dad again or his confused mind's attempt at dealing with the fact that his brother is going to Hell in a year but either way a fight seems like such a delicious idea..

"Some other time? When Dean? Next week? Next month? Or...or how about next year... oh wait a minute - too late!"

He starts to pace back and forth, back and forth feeling as if his body is being controlled by someone else and his words belong to another and he hates himself again for the rage pouring out of him and he wishes that he could just stop but there's too much noise in his head. Noise screaming at him, voices talking at him but not one of them does he recognise and he can't make out the words it's all just noise.

They stare at each other for a moment then Dean leans back and crosses his arms surprisingly calm and his voice low and controlled.

"You said you'd do the same, that there was nothing you wouldn't do, so what have you got to be mad at Sam? Because I did the only thing I could do? The same thing that you would have done?"

Sam glares at Dean then looks away again still furious, all thoughts of reigning in his emotions pushed to the side and he turns back to his brother to spill out more of his beaten soul regretting every word as it exits his mouth but he just wants the voices to stop and the screaming and pounding in his head to end but it won't. It won't ever stop because his brother is going to hell and it's his fault.

He breathes in deeply allowing the air to temporarily calm his tongue so that he can explain, let his brother know, help him to understand because then maybe he could understand too.

"I said that there was nothing I wouldn't do for you. For_ you,_ Dean, but tell me,how does selling my soul to hell and leaving you all alone to deal with the consequences do _you_ any favours? How do you figure that your decision was for me huh Dean? I would _never_ do that to you because I know exactly what it would do to you and _that_ Dean is the difference between _you _and _me_!"

Dean glares at him stunned and Sam flinches at his own cruelty but he's said it now the words are out there floating around in space between them, their echo continuing to stab at Dean's dying soul and pointing it's accusing finger at Sam saying_ "Look at what you're doing to him." _

And there's no taking it back. No going back so he goes on, forwards because there is nowhere else to go.

"You're selfish Dean. Selfish. I think you made that deal for yourself. So you wouldn't have to be alone. But guess what Dean, I'm gonna have to live without you now. How do you think that makes me feel knowing that my life cost you your soul?"

He feels tears in his eyes now and he sees them in his brother's eyes also and he cannot understand why he is doing this, where this cruelty is coming from but there is so much darkness inside nibbling away, little by little and he needs to be rid of it because he can hardly breathe and if he could just breathe then maybe he could make sense of the madness in his head.

There's a painfully long silence and Sam realises he's gone too far but all he feels is hatred now - hatred for himself, for his life that his brother saw fit to place before his own, for their existence and for his past which set about the chain of events that led them here to this point where it feels as if the world as already ended.

"Is that what you think?"

Dean's voice is like a white light striking through the mist reminding him of who he is and why he is here, a drop of cold, ice rain in a hot sea of blood and Sam finds he can no longer look at his brother's face, his face which for once holds no mask and hides behind no barrier. He's looking straight at him his eyes wide and drowning in their own tears, trying so hard to be honest with him and he can offer nothing in return.

"You really believe that I damned myself for eternity just so's I wouldn't have to be alone for what - another forty years? Even if I live that long. Don't you think that's a little screwed up even for me, Sam?"

Sam shrugs blinking back tears of anger and regret and moves away from the bed. Away from Dean and when he speaks again he can only whisper.

"If the cap fits."

Dean stands up from the bed and moves in front of Sam facing him head on and the hackles on his neck rise but he has no reason to fear because Dean's voice is so quiet he hardly recognises it's pitiful whisper.

"I may be screwed up, but I know why I did what I did and I'm not sorry. I did it for you Sam, because you're my little brother and it's my job to look after you. But if you wanna believe that. That I did it for myself, that's fine if it helps you sleep at night."

He turns back to the bed as if he's about to sit back down and his response, the passive retreat, the complete lack of will, sarcasm, accusation in his brother's words seems completely wrong to Sam and it's as if he's stepped into an alternate universe where his brother is someone else and he cannot understand why he isn't angry and why he hasn't hit him yet, how much does he have to push him before he snaps?

The voices continue to fight for control and he feels the surge of anger return although he's not sure if it's anger, grief, or fear that he's feeling now but it seems to be coming out as anger so he supposes it must be, only he can't figure out who he's angry at. Himself? Dean? The Demon? Jake? His Dad? There are too many contenders and too many emotions to consider or deal with so he spits out more bile, more fury and more accusations and hate because then maybe his fucked up soul will stop screaming at him, everything will end and at last there will be silence.

"_**Sleep**_? You think I'm gonna be sleeping with this hanging over me you _prick_?"

Dean spins around suddenly furious and apparently out of patience and his eyes blaze at Sam causing him to flinch a little but not enough to stand down because a part of him is relieved that his brother is still in there.

"You know what Sam? I get it that you're pissed, but I'm the one who's going to hell."

"And you're the one that fuckin' damned yourself you fucking asshole! Why can't you admit it Dean? You were scared and you freaked the hell out and you did the first thing that came into your stupid fuckin' head, just like you always do and then you thought to yourself hey 'I'll turn this hugely moronic thing I just did into somethin' real noble and say I did it for Sammy...' "

Sam doesn't get chance to finish because Dean has grabbed the front of his shirt and pushed him hard against the wall his eyes cold and furious but Sam can see the tears and the agony in them and wishes his brother would just knock him out and shut him up, shut out the noise and shut out the dark and the anger and let it all end and if he has to wake up then let it be in the morning because all he can see is darkness and he desperately needs to see light but right now he doubts if the sun will ever rise again.

For a moment there is silence as two pairs of eyes stare into each other and nothing is spoken and Sam watches as Dean swallows, watches the muscles in his jaw flex and tense, sees his lips twitch and his eyes flicker and Sam knows it's because he is close to tears and it's all his fault and he thinks that if Dean doesn't do it for him then he may just pound his own head against the wall until he loses consciousness so that he can sleep and forget what a bastard he's become.

He waits because he thinks Dean is about to speak but first he lets go of him and turns his back stepping away and then he does speak and Sam can't hear his brother, again the sound is of someone else talking and he wonders if it's because his soul's days are numbered.

"You're wrong, Sam. You don't know... there's no _way_ you could know."

In the silence he hears a small sigh and once again he doesn't recognise it and wonders if he's lost Dean already.

"For the last time Sam, I did it for you; I did it because you're my brother and because it's my job to look after you and because...because..."

"Because?"

Dean shakes his head and Sam knows without seeing his face that the tears are close to spilling but not quite there yet and then he finds his voice but it breaks and as it does it just about tears Sam's soul in two.

"Because I screwed it up."

"_What_?"

"I had one job - one lousy job - and I screwed it up. I let you down... and I let dad down."

He turns to face him again and Sam wishes that he hadn't because the look on his brother's face is enough to make him want to crawl right into hell.

"Tell me Sam, how was I supposed to live with that?"

Sam can hardly believe what he's hearing. How many times does he have to deal with this? How many times does he have to hear this? Sam stares at Dean his own eyes brimming with tears and all he wants to do is to reach for his brother and beg him not to leave him or die and to let him go to hell instead but he doesn't. He doesn't do that because that isn't what Winchesters do and instead he does what Dean would do and what his Dad would do and he conceals the truth because if there's one thing he's learnt lately it's that the truth hurts and gives you nothing but fear and regret and guilt and it's so much easier to be angry than curled up on the floor crying out your insides for the only family you have left who you know you won't be able to save no matter how hard you want it.

He blinks back the tears and swallows the dryness in his throat which is threatening to close up. He shakes his head and then looks his brother in the eye.

"And this is looking after me is it Dean? I mean did you ever stop and think about what it would do to me to lose you like that?"

Dean turns away defeated and weary and sits down on the edge of the bed, shoulders slumped hands hanging in his lap.

"I wasn't going to tell you Sammy. It would've been better if you'd kept your mouth shut instead of asking questions like you always do. I didn't mean for you to find out."

Sam nods sneering again.

"Great that's just great Dean. You know that makes it all okay. Now I'm not upset anymore that my brother sold his soul to the devil for **one. Fucking.** **YEAR**!"

Dean looks up taking in a deep breath through his nose and Sam looks back into the eyes which are frighteningly bright as the familiar fury returns.

"Have you any idea what it's like Sam? Have you?"

He stands again turning to Sam fists clenching and unclenching and Sam thinks that Dean is definitely going to hit him this time and he's almost willing it to happen.

"Knowing you've lost everything that ever meant anything to you? Watching them die... I held you and... I _**begged**_ you to come back but..."

He stops again probably because his voice is breaking up and he swallows again and the action looks painful as if he has something stuck in his throat that just won't go away and his face is tensing and all Sam can do is listen to the crescendo of his brother's anger fill the room and tear into him damning him like he knows he deserves.

"Maybe what I did _was_ selfish. Maybe I didn't want to be alone, maybe I felt like I was falling part so I did the only thing I could, well fuckin' sue me Sam! Maybe I should've let you go but if you want an apology then you're gonna be waiting one hell of a long time. Now how about you get the fuck off my back and leave me the hell alone!"

He turns away again and Sam wants to say something intelligent but all he can manage is:

"Fine."

"Fine."

Sam walks to the door, opens it and then slams it behind him and doesn't see Dean pick up the bottle of beer on the table and he doesn't see Dean hurl it across the room but he hears the frustrated scream through tightly clenched teeth and the shatter of glass as the bottle breaks against the door into three hundred and sixty five pieces and then he swears he hears his brother's doomed soul do the same.

TBC

Comments gratefully received


	2. Chapter 2

Thanks so much for the fantastic reviews you all made me happy. I was uncertain about whether to post it or not cos I wasn't sure if I liked it but I had no idea how to improve it so I just thought what the hell. I was pleasantly shocked at how many comments I got the first day and it made me smile loads so thanks, thanks and thanks again you're all fab.

**Chapter 2**

**_"Dean you can forget it alright. I'm not letting you summon that Demon."_**

**_"Why not?"_**

**_"Cos I don't like where your head is at right now that's why not."_**

_Trust Sam to figure it all out too. And now of course he was all worried that he was gonna flip out again and do something real dumb and Dean like. Last time was different it didn't count. He wasn't suicidal he just reckoned the world would be better off without him screwing it up all the time. Okay maybe that did sound a little suicidal and maybe just a tad egotistical but it still didn't count. Besides they didn't call him Death wish Dean for nothing. _

_Of course he had no intention of admitting to Sam that the offer had been tempting but who wouldn't have been tempted to set things straight. That bitch had read his fucking mind somehow and knew everything which really pissed him off because those things he wouldn't have even told Sam. Not that he needed to because Sam already knew. Sam knew what went off in his head every single day, knew how the guilt was almost too much to bear and that some days it felt impossible just to get out of bed. _

_He could tell by those looks that Sam always gave him. The sly glances when he thought that Dean wasn't looking usually shot his way when he had awoken from a particularly horrendous nightmare, or when somebody said something which meant nothing in particular but somehow triggered a memory or a feeling and brought all the guilt and the grief rushing to the surface. Nothing was ever said but he could tell. Sometimes Sam wouldn't just give him a look though. Sometimes he would start pushing him and nagging at him to talk and he just didn't get it that he really didn't want to but last time it had been a little different._

_He tried not to think about it because it wasn't exactly the most fun filled week of his life and he had done things which had made him ashamed and sometimes he felt as if he would never be forgiven but Sam was always there telling him he didn't need to be forgiven because there was nothing to forgive. Sammy had somehow, with a little help from Bobby, dragged him through that week, dragged him kicking and screaming back to his old self, yelled at him, pushed him, caught him when he had fallen and held him when he thought the tears and the pain were never going to end but nothing had really changed that much. He still couldn't forgive his Dad and he would never forgive himself. Of course Sam would prattle on about how it wasn't his fault blah blah blah but it still didn't change the fact that his Dad was in hell because of him. Those words that that bitch spoke to him had haunted him, ripped his already broken heart to shreds and even now they bounced around his head refusing to let him forget._

**_"_If you could see your poor daddy. Hear the sounds he makes 'cause he can't even scream._"_**

_What the fuck was he supposed to do with that information? Swallow it ignore it wrap it up and put it in a box marked do not open again under pain of death? How could he ignore it when it was eating away at his soul every single day?_

_Sam had asked the ultimate question though hadn't he? Was it a trick or did a part of him consider the deal even for just a second? Well fuck diddly doo genius of course he had considered it. How could he not. How was hell worse than this anyway - he doubted it was. He could have lied of course and got Sam off his back and ensured that Sam wouldn't bother him with it again but these days lying to Sam was hard and he had already lied to him enough and so many times it had nearly cost him his brother so it was easier just to turn up the volume on the tape player and ignore it. Deal with it later or never preferably but he knew Sam would bring it up eventually because that's what Sammy did._

---------------------------------

He doesn't like feeling like this but he can't help it. He doesn't like giving in to the loneliness or the reminder that he has lost everything good in his life because of his own failures and his own weaknesses. He wishes that the feeling would never come and the ache in his chest would go but it doesn't and he can't help it. He wishes that his eyes weren't stinging right now and the tightness in his throat was caused by too much drinking but it wasn't. He wishes that the first tear that rolls down his cheek isn't really there but it is and he can't help it. He can't help it because he has no reason to be strong anymore; there is no one here to protect or shield, no one in front of him and no one at his back, nothing except a cold hard headboard and beneath him nothing but an old worn mattress to hold him up.

He stares straight ahead because there is no where else to look. He's sat with his knees bent and his arms resting upon them because he cannot stand anymore and there is no one to lie next to.

He lets the tear fall. Doesn't catch it or wipe it away just leaves it and it stays there on his cheek until it's obliterated by another as he feels the first tremors course through his body. He rests his head on his hand, the elbow propped up on his bent knees, because his head is too heavy to support it's own weight and wonders if this is what hell will be like. Alone, lost and without hope. The tremors increase and he closes his eyes as the sobs overpower him, shaking his body cruelly and without mercy and this time he doesn't even try to fight them.

------------------------------------------

Bobby and Ellen return from their supply run to find the house quiet. The brothers are no where to be seen and Bobby makes his way to the bathroom leaving Ellen to unpack and he hears a sound that sends a shiver through him but at the same time isn't all that much of a shock.

He pads softly to the room he assigned the brothers and listens at the door. Listens to the sound that he had heard far too often lately and the sound he had wished he would never have to hear again, all the while knowing that he would. He sighs heavily and leans against the door his eyes closing, the despair held in behind them. He stays there and listens because listening is all he can do these days, it is too late for him to do anything else, those chances have past but he doesn't go in because he knows he has lost that right.

He could leave, walk away and help Ellen sort the supplies and pretend he hadn't heard but he won't because it's all he can offer. Dean's heart is a wreck and his soul is a right off but he won't leave, he'll stay and force himself to listen to the sounds of a young man slowly falling apart because of what _he_ had failed to do.

He thinks about the chances he had had to change things. The chances he had been given to steer the brothers in a different direction to lead them away from the day where Dean would reach breaking point. Bobby has always known Dean's breaking point. His breaking point is Sam and without Sam the world just may as well go and end because without Sam he was lost without an anchor, adrift with nothing to tether him to the earth and it's existence. Without Sam he would float away into oblivion and nothing else would ever matter to him again.

He had understood the decision. Hadn't been that surprised if he thought about it but it didn't change the fact that he had wanted to yell at him, shake him, smack the shit out of him as if that would change anything and if the kid hadn't looked so defeated and broken then he probably would have.

It had finally hit him just how screwed up Dean's head really was and he had hated himself for not seeing it sooner. He had always known about the boy's infinite capacity for guilt and self recrimination but he hadn't realised how upside down Dean's view of himself was until he had said those words to him. It had been enough to make him want to deck him right there but at the same time he had wanted to take the boy in his arms and make everything go away but he couldn't do that. What Dean really needed was his Dad and he knew then like he knows now that he isn't even a poor substitute.

It feels like such a long time before the sounds behind the door drift away and then he hears the front door open and then close again and hushed voices that he recognises as Ellen's and Sam's. He can't hear what they're saying and he isn't ready to move away from the door yet but then he sees something out of the corner of his eye and he turns to his left to see Sam standing there. The light is poor in the hall way and he can't see the boy's eyes because they're hidden in shadow.

They stare at each other for a long time until Sam drops his gaze to the floor the guilt evaporating off him and obvious to anyone with a soul but Bobby says nothing. Sam leans against the wall opposite the older man and slides down it so he's sitting, knees bent staring straight ahead his eyes still hidden from view and then Bobby joins him on the floor opposite.

"What happened, kiddo?"

Sam doesn't say anything but Bobby doesn't push him and waits knowing Sam will speak when he's ready. He's unlike his brother in that way.

After a few minutes Sam shakes his head and Bobby thinks he can see tears trickling down his face.

"What's wrong with me Bobby?"

He remains quiet.

"He's my brother. He puts me first all the time, gives up everything for me, and not just that but he damns himself for me. Why do I..."

There's a brief pause and Bobby frowns slightly but still says nothing. Sam wipes at his face and takes in a wavering breath.

"I hurt him so bad. I couldn't stop, I just kept on and on and I don't know why."

"What did you say, Sam?"

Bobby keeps his voice soft, free of accusation but doesn't take his eyes off the youngest Winchester.

"I told him he was selfish. That the deal was stupid and more for his benefit. I accused him of being afraid of being left alone. I yelled at him. I pushed him and I pushed him and he still wouldn't hit me."

"Why would he hit you Sam?"

"Because I'm a jerk. Because I don't deserve him. And because all I ever do is bring him down."

Bobby looks on as Sam wipes his eyes again but the tears keep coming.

"Sam... That's not true."

"Yes. Yes it is."

Bobby looks at his feet lost for any kind of comforting words.

"Why would I do that huh, Bobby? Dean did the unthinkable - for _me -_ and I repay him by ripping him to shreds. Why Bobby?"

Bobby looks up again.

"Maybe because you were scared. Maybe because you've been through hell and you know it isn't over. Maybe because you're just as afraid of being left alone as he is."

Sam nods sniffing but says nothing.

"Sam, after what you've been through it's not all that surprising. You've had a lot to deal with and had to take on things that would break most men. Don't be so hard on yourself. You boys have been through the wringer and it's a wonder either of you still have your heads screwed on."

"I'm going to lose him, Bobby and it's no more than I deserve."

"Go to him, he needs you and you need him."

Sam ignores the instruction.

"It so heavy Bobby. I can't carry this. I swear man, I'm about _this_ close to losing it."

He holds up a thumb and forefinger pressed tightly together.

"I have no idea how to deal with it. I have no idea how I'm gonna get through this; how I'm gonna get Dean through it. How do I deal with this Bobby tell me please, you have to tell me."

He looks up at Bobby for the first time his eyes pleading and Bobby looks back the trust, despair and sadness in Sam's eyes almost drowning him and he pushes up on to one knee and lightly smacks Sam's leg.

"Go to him."

And then he leaves.

--------------------------------

_Dean had been surprised when Sam had allowed him to head off to the nearest bar while he unpacked without so much as a bitch or whine. He hadn't expected that but to be honest he didn't see why he shouldn't go and get shit faced considering the day he had had. It was pretty late anyway and they probably wouldn't be going anywhere soon - Sam would probably start researching in the late morning which meant Dean had plenty of time to nurse his hangover and yes he was planning on getting a big fuck off hangover and if anyone didn't like it then they could kiss his white Kansas ass. _

_He knew he was being a jerk. Knew that alcohol wasn't the way to deal with your problems and yes no doubt Doctor Phil would have something to say about it. He knew that he had promised himself that he wouldn't allow himself to sink into oblivion again and he knew that there was an unspoken promise between him and Sam that he wouldn't allow the alcohol to destroy him like he had almost done some weeks before but one night was one night and he reckoned he deserved it. One night just to forget. Just one night to try and obliterate the memories and the words that rattled around his head. **Those** words. **Her** words._

_One night that's all he wanted, just one night when his brain wouldn't scream at him, the images in his head would leave him alone and he didn't feel sick to his stomach knowing that his dad was in hell being tortured instead of him and it was all his fault and there was not a damn thing he could do about it._

_Of course he had realised it was too good to be true when Sam had turned up at the bar and dragged him back to the hotel and laid into him. So predictable._

_"Dude what - is your problem?"_

_"I'll give you one guess Dean."_

_"Sam I was just having a few beers, and a few whiskeys and then maybe a few more, what's the big deal?"_

_"You know what the big deal is Dean. Or am I the only one who's getting an odd sense of de ja vu here?"_

_"Oh right I get it. You think I'm gonna go and flip out again right? Sam it's just one night okay? Come on even you could use a little wind down time."_

_"How do I know it's just one night though Dean. I know what's goin' off in your head and I don't have to be psychic to see where all this is going."_

_Dean had grown a little pissed at this point and turned his best glare on his little brother._

_"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"_

_"You know damn well what it means, Dean. I'm not gonna just sit by and watch you screw yourself up again man, it's not gonna happen. Hell I almost lost you last time and I'm not gonna go through that again."_

_"Oh here we go- it's always about you isn't it Sammy?"_

_"No Dean it's about you. It's about how you do this every time and expect me to just sit back and let you. Well I won't, not this time so you may as well just get that into your head. We're not going down that road again Dean like it or not."_

_"You think I'm proud of the things I've done, Sam? You think I look back at all that with happy fuzzy feelings? You don't think I hate myself every day for putting you through that. I'd give anything to take all that back, but guess what? I can't, but one thing I can do is make sure it doesn't happen again and I swear to you Sam, it won't. I would **never** do that to you again, Sam. **Never.**"_

_"Well I only have your word for that don't I Dean and it's not like you haven't lied to me before."_

_Dean had thought that maybe Sam had a point and turned away giving in and sliding on to his bed to read the paper._

_"Fine. I'll stay home and be a good boy if it makes you happy okay?"_

_He began flicking briskly through the paper and he knew he was being a brat and he glanced up briefly to see Sam turn away obviously frustrated and annoyed but what the hell did he want from him anyway. There were a few minutes of blissful silence and he actually thought he had gotten away with it until he heard a sigh which he decided to ignore._

_"You didn't answer my question."_

_"Huh?"_

_He didn't look up._

_"The question I asked you in the car?"_

_"Mm, sorry what?"_

_"Don't play dumb with me Dean you know exactly what I'm talking about. I asked you a question and I want an answer."_

_Still he managed to keep his eyes on the paper._

_"I already gave you an answer Sam; I answered you by not answering which in itself is an answer."_

_"What?"_

_"By gones Sam, move on."_

_"I don't think so."_

_Sam was stood there all twenty eight foot of him with his arms folded like it was supposed to make him spill or something and he briefly considered walking out and going back to busty Bridget or whatever her name was at the bar but he didn't because he had to be real careful because a) his brother wasn't taking any shit from him these days and b) he really didn't want Bobby showing up and kicking his ass again. It had sucked enough the first time and he didn't want to deal with the old man right now so instead he tried the old Sam I'm Pissed So Leave Me Alone routine by throwing the paper on the floor and glaring up at old Sasquatch there which pretty much achieved nothing expect probably making him look like a sulky teenager. He sighed because he was tired of fighting and didn't think he could be bothered anyway._

_"Fine, you want an answer? The answer is no Sam it wasn't all a trick and yes I did consider it. You happy now?"_

_There he'd said it or rather yelled it which was a shame because now Sammy had that scolded puppy expression and he was feeling all guilty again._

_Sam nodded and looked like he was going to start crying or something so he softened his tone a little because he really didn't want to descend into yet another chick flick moment, he'd had plenty of those lately and he was seriously starting to have doubts about his masculinity. He reckoned that maybe he should go out and get laid or eat some cheeseburgers or something but that was unlikely to happen anytime soon considering he had just been grounded by his baby brother. Could things possibly suck any louder?_

_"Look Sam I didn't do it did I, that's what matters. Sure I thought about it, but I couldn't do that to you or to Dad so you don't need to go getting all worried about me, okay? I'll be fine."_

_"You expect me to buy that Dean. You just admitted to me that you considered switching places with Dad. How am I supposed to react to that Dean? Tell me cos I have no idea?"_

_He shook his head regretting ever saying anything because it was too late the chick flick moment was approaching and almost upon them and he didn't think it was possible to reverse it now._

_"Sam..."_

_He stood up walking away from the bed._

_"You think about it all the time don't you?"_

_He nodded and turned away because if he had to get through this then he couldn't do it while looking into those fucking sad eyes._

_"You know I really thought we were ok Dean, that you trusted me. But it's never gonna change is it. You're never gonna stop pushing me away or hiding all that shit from me."_

_"I'm not hiding anything from you Sam. Dad's in hell because of me. End of. No discussion. What do you want me to say?"_

_He turned back to face him then, because it seemed that was the only way he could convince him but it didn't seem to work which was - well annoying._

_"I want you to be honest with me, Dean. I want you to tell me about the nightmares that I know you still have instead of acting like you're fine and blaming them on a bad take out. I want you to stop acting like I can't handle the fucked up shit inside your head because I reckon I've already proved that I can."_

_"You wanna know how fucked up I really am Sammy? You wanna know how every day I fell like I've had it. That every morning I try and work out how much shit I can take today and whether it will destroy me or not? Or do you wanna know how this latest little development is just about enough to make me wanna jump off the nearest bridge and the only thing that's stopping me is that I still have a job to do!"_

_"You still think I'm your job huh?"_

_"Protecting you, looking out for you. It's the one thing that Dad asked me to do before... before... it was his last wish and I sure as hell am **not** gonna screw it up okay?"_

_"What about you Dean? Who gets to look out for you? You forgetting your promise to Bobby already?"_

_"Oh great, that again..."_

_"Dean, I'm serious you can't keep doing this to me - to **us** - our lives are messed up enough as it is..."_

_"Sam, just stop okay? I know you wanna help but you can't. This can't be fixed no matter how much you want it. Get that through your head and you'll be a lot happier. Now I've got a date with a bottle of whiskey and cute little hottie called Rosinda... or something, so if you don't mind..."_

_That's was the point when he bolted for the door just like he always did. Some would call it cowardly and gutless and maybe it was, but right now he didn't give a rat's ass. _

_TBC_


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N Thanks for all your lovely comments - as always muchly appreciated. Thanks also if you're just reading - it's nice to know._

**Chapter 3 **

The voices outside the room drift through the crack under the door and he immediately, instinctively attempts to quell the sounds forcing their way out of him. He inhales deeply and scrubs the tears away roughly, forcing back the ones that haven't escaped yet and pushes the ache deep down inside of him so that no one will know. He takes in another wavering breath, trying to calm the quakes that still shiver through him and screws his eyes shut waiting for the tremors to ease. He can't hear exactly what is being said but he can identify the voices easily and thinks horrified that Bobby must have heard. Bobby had witnessed him break far too much lately and it had really started to piss him off. He wonders to himself how he's supposed to convince people that he is a strong and capable hunter when he can't even control his emotions anymore.

It had started when his Dad died. Before then he had generally been able to keep himself in check. Hide what he was going through; hide it from the world and from Sam although he knows now that that in itself is a lie. In truth he had never been able to hide anything from Sam it was just that Sam knew when to shut up and leave well alone. Sam generally respected the fact that he needed to deal with things in his own way but he had also instinctively known when not to let him get away with claiming he was fine, when it was obvious to only the younger brother that he wasn't. Those times when the burden was too heavy and needed to be shared, those times when he had needed to purge himself, those times when he had needed an outlet for his grief and only Sam would have understood and Sam had nearly always been able to tell the difference and knew when it was necessary to push him and not let him walk away.

Once his Dad had gone though, those times seemed to becoming more and more frequent. His Dad had always demanded he remain strong and show no weakness but now he was gone it was as if his will had deserted him also. There was no one around to impress with his stoicism and stiff upper lip anymore and some part of him had said "To hell with that shit." That strength - that resolve had died with his father and it was so much harder without it to create the facade that had seen him through the worst days. The hole left by John Winchester had not healed with time but had only grown larger, leaving him raw and bereft and unable to hide anything from the people who knew him best.

Bobby had held him while he had cried for his Dad and for all the other things he had messed up and Bobby had seen him crying for his brother, although the tears had stopped as soon as Bobby had returned to the spot where Sam had fallen. He didn't know why he had to pretend that he was fine when he obviously wasn't, but pushing Bobby away was the only thing that he had known how to do right then.

He had been scared shitless about facing the older man after what he had done, scared to endure his wrath and scared that he would give the secret away to Sam, but he hadn't been prepared for the way Bobby had laid into him over his decision. It wasn't the yelling, the rough shake he had received or the threat to 'throttle' him that had been the worst but everything else. The look on his face had ripped at him like a Wendigo's claws and he had barely been able to look at him. He had even invited the older man to let him have it and he believed that he would do but he hadn't. He had expected anger but the grief and pain in the older man's eyes had been like a kick in the gut. What he hadn't anticipated was the sadness or compassion and when he felt Bobby's hand on his face instead of the blow he had as good as asked for knew he was as close to his threshold as ever and if Ellen hadn't turned up when she did, it would have been yet another moment to add to the list of many where Bobby had seen him crack.

He leans back on the headboard eyes closed listening to the soft lull of the familiar voices outside the door and realises he has no interest in what they're saying. What could they possibly say that would hold any interest for him now? What could they ever say that would make a shred of difference? Words mean nothing when actions have outplayed them. Words can bring no aid when the things you have done have destroyed everything in your world. When all is lost words are meaningless sounds thrown to the wind, beaten and extinguished by the acts that preceded them. And words eventually grow silent and diminish.

The silence he hears now tells him all he needs to know. Soon his brother will enter the room no doubt in an attempt to fix things with words strung together into sentences that ultimately mean nothing and he doesn't wants to hear any of it. He doesn't want or deserve to hear the sound of his brother's compassion or his forgiveness and at the same time he wants and needs it more than anything but a part of him is afraid that it won't be offered anyway. He doesn't want to look at his brother's face because he's afraid of what he'll see there. He's afraid that instead of compassion he'll see more anger, instead of forgiveness he'll see accusation, and instead of hope he'll see fear or grief or judgement and he knows that all these things would kill him. Sam wouldn't need to say a word he would only need look at him and it would be enough for him to shatter like the most brittle of glass so when Sam does enter the room padding softly towards him he cannot see his brother's face only his back as Dean lies on his side facing the window, eyes hidden and appearing to be deep in the oblivion of sleep and Dean keeps his eyes closed tight and hopes Sam will leave him in peace.

--------------------

_He had just made it over the threshold when the hand appeared on his shoulder just like he knew it would and he shrugged it off just like he was supposed to but then Sam grabbed his coat collar and spun him around pushing him hard towards the bed causing him to lose his balance and he was so shocked he slid off the bed and right on to the floor._

_He sat there staring up at Sam his back against the side of the bed, stunned, shell shocked and though he would eat shit before admitting it, a little afraid of what was going to happen next. He didn't really know what he was supposed to do or say so he settled for the familiar, comfortable routine of smirk, raise eyebrow and produce smart assed comment. _

_"You know Sammy, some people don't like that." _

_He replaced the smirk with a wince as he tried to push himself up only to have Sam shove him right back down on his ass again._

_"Ow." He spoke deliberately. "That. Hurt."_

_Sam of course was unimpressed and still pissed._

_"You think this is funny Dean? You think this an okay way to behave after everything we've been through?"_

_Sam was practically yelling at him now and all he could do was sit and stare up at the forty foot geek pacing and throwing his arms out to the side in that way that always made Dean want to deck him._

_"You don't think this is killing me too? Knowing that Dad's in hell after those things I said to him. I tell him to go to hell, Dean and that's exactly what he does. I accused him of not even caring that his own son was dying because I thought he was summoning the Demon for a showdown, when in fact he was about to trade his soul for you."_

_Sam stopped pacing then and stood apparently trying to get his breath back before crouching in front of him so that they were almost on a level. Almost, because Sam was crouching and Dean was still on his ass and besides his height was that of an average guy whereas Sam's was that of an average yeti._

_He wasn't sure how he felt about the change in position. On the one hand it was easier because his neck wasn't straining so much, but on the other there was less distance between them which mad it all the more difficult to retain his give-a-shit demeanour and every time his brother spoke he felt a little of his resolve ripped away. He continued to stare, saying nothing while his brother continued to lay into him because he was afraid that if he moved just one muscle the fragile defences that were of little use to him these days would give and then that would be it._

_"This is so hard Dean and I know it's killing you but I can't just sit and watch you do this to yourself. We both lost Dad and I keep having to face the prospect of losing you too and I just can't keep doing this. You don't think I'm about as close to losing it as I've ever been?"_

_He spoke then because he thought it was about time he said something even though he could tell that his voice didn't sound quite right._

_"I'm tired of it all Sam. I just wanna be left alone..."_

_"What so you can drink yourself stupid again Dean? You honestly believe I'm gonna let you do that? Do you really believe I'd risk losing you again?"_

_They eyed each other for a few seconds and then Sam grabbed his coat, which startled him, and then hauled him up on to his knees, readjusting his own position so they were eye to eye and he felt those fucking tears that had been pissing him off far too much lately spring uninvited into his eyes, yelling cheerfully at him: "Well howdy you spineless freakin' loser, we're back!". It was as if he had morphed into a girl since his dad had died, all he ever did was fucking cry. He always tried not to but sometimes it was too fucking hard and there were days like this when it hurt too much and he was too tired to fight and if Sam wanted an Oprah moment then maybe he would just go ahead and let him._

_He was a little surprised to be looking at not puppy eyed Sam but really pissed and scary Sam and he flinched a little when Sam shook him, hard enough to be annoying and uncomfortable and still glaring at him like he would smack him in the mouth if he dared so much as speak out of turn. He wasn't sure why but he couldn't retain eye contact anymore but Sam didn't seem too pleased with him when he averted his eyes. Fuck it he was only trying to maintain a bit of dignity for fuck's sake._

_"Damn it Dean, would you look at me?"_

_He didn't of course he just blinked and hoped that Sam wouldn't notice and then his little brother went and shook him again even harder and had the fucking nerve to yell at him._

_"**DEAN!** Look at me!"_

_Having his little brother yelling in his face made him jump and his eyes had involuntarily snapped to focus on Sam's and he thought "Fine, I'll look at you." But it would just serve him right if the tears he was trying his hardest to hold on to were to sneak out and just top off the whole fucking day nicely, because they were so close, his eyes were stinging and swimming and he could barely make out Sam's face. And then Sam shook him again._

_"You're not gonna do this ok? I am **not** gonna let you do this again, it ends now you hear me?"_

_He nodded at him then and forced out an audible response but his voice was cracking up and sounded pathetic but there was fuck all else he could do besides he was starting to worry that Sam might actually give him a girly slap or something and he had witnessed that first hand and yes they were girly but damn it they fucking hurt. So he answered the best he could even if it was just a whisper._

_"I hear you, Sammy."_

_They stared at each other for a few seconds and then he felt it that unmistakable fucking sensation of something trickling down his cheek. Well Sammy had gone and done it now because that first one was just the start and once it started it was always so fucking hard to stop._

_Sam had just stared at him wincing when he saw the tear and Dean had tried to force a smile but he reckoned it must have come out like something else and then Sammy had pulled him into the most pansy-assed hugs of all time and it was all he could do just to not be sick with the sheer girlyness of it all but he didn't throw up instead he just knelt there silent his arms limp by his sides trying not to cry anymore and then he considered pushing Sam away and calling him a girl but then more of those fucking tears appeared and ruined everything and he realised that it would make him the biggest hypocrite alive seeing as he was the one crying like a girl and then the shakes started, he was just shaking and shaking and his breath started to go all uneven and then these fucking awful noises started coming out of him and he tried to swallow them back but the harder he swallowed the harder they just kept on forcing their way up his windpipe like puke so he pressed his face into his brother's shoulder in the hope that it would muffle them enough so no one would hear and grabbed on to the back of Sam's shirt as if that could keep him from falling apart and he had felt Sam's arms tighten around him holding him up and he thought to himself what a pathetic loser he was but he didn't seem to be in control of his body anymore and the next thing he knew he was holding on to Sam so tightly it scared him, but he didn't seem to be able to loosen his grip no matter how hard he tried and it was possibly the only thing keeping him from falling._

_And then he gave in to it. He cried and cried like a little kid and Sammy just held him and said nothing, not a word and for a long, long time it felt like the tears would never stop._

_They did of course. Eventually, they stopped, leaving him feeling empty, embarrassed and ashamed, just like they always did, but Sam didn't seem to care so they talked for a while and Dean yelled a bit and paced and then he cried - again - and Sam listened and put a hand on his shoulder and Dean had looked at him warningly because another hug was definitely not what he wanted right now and Sam smiled and nodded but didn't move his hand and Dean wiped away his tears and then nothing changed. Not one little bit._

_Dean had a nightmare that night about his dad. He was in hell screaming but there was no sound coming out and Dean had woken up drenched in his own sweat and shaking and he had been unable to hide it from Sam this time. That was when Sam had suggested they visit Bobby and Dean had practically glared a hole right through his head._

_-----------------_

Sam sits on his own bed staring at his brother's back, the tears are still present in his eyes although he doesn't feel he has the right to shed them. He wants to go to Dean, to sit with him, to beg forgiveness and to reassure himself that they will be ok but most of all he wants to free Dean of his burden and make everything like when they were kids and there was no war, just each other and their Dad and everything was as it should be. Except it wasn't, was it? It hadn't been as it should be since their mother had died trying to save his life. He wonders if the woman who had given birth to him would have bothered had she known the baby she had run to, called out to in terror would one day destroy her first born. He thinks to himself that maybe if he hadn't been such a pain in the ass when he was a kid maybe his Dad and big brother wouldn't have babied him so much, maybe he would have grown up with more balls and then maybe he would have killed Jake when he had the chance instead of pathetically and stupidly allowing him to stick a knife in his back and effectively dooming his brother's life and soul.

He shakes his head, mocking his self pity.

_Get a grip Sam you've a job to do._

He sighs and wipes at the tears before they can fall and tries to steady his breathing.

"Look I don't blame you for not wanting to talk with me, I wouldn't blame you if you hated me and don't worry I'm not gonna wake you and force a chick flick moment on you. I guess I just have to tell you this in case I don't get the chance."

He pauses for a moment giving his voice a chance to return to normal and swallows back the lump forming in his throat.

"I'm...I'm so sorry man. I'm so sorry. You...you always looked out for me and I guess I tried to do the same but - well I guess I wasn't as good at it as you, huh?"

He takes another breath sniffing and blinks back the fresh set of tears that are stinging his eyes.

"If I was, none of this would have happened would it? But I want you to know from now on I'm gonna try harder. I'm gonna look after you... whether you like it or not and I'm not gonna let you down this time okay?"

He nods to himself and wipes away the few tears that despite his best efforts still managed to escape and of course doesn't see his brother's tears falling in unison, or the slight movement of a hand gripping a pillow and the small sound of someone taking in a hitched breath falls on deaf ears as he makes the decision to sleep through this night, just this once because after that there won't be time. He's got work to do.

------------------------------------------

_"No. No way Sam."_

_"What? Why? He's our friend besides don't you think he has a right to know. About Dad."_

_Dean had remained silent at that knowing that Sam had a point._

_"I can't Sam. Not right now, okay?"_

_"What are you afraid of Dean?"_

_"What the hell do you think Sam?"_

_"What you think he's gonna lay into you? Judge you? Yell at you?"_

_"Probably."_

_"That's B.S. Dean and you know it. I know you blame yourself for all this cos hey, what the fuck is new, but no one else does and you can beat yourself up all you want but you gotta get it into your head that no one else wants to."_

_"It's not that Sam, I just... I can't that's all."_

_"I don't know what you think's gonna happen. Bobby told us if he needed help to call, well I figure this counts as needing help."_

_"Why Sam? Why do you think that Bobby can help with this? I mean tell me if you know cos I sure as hell don't see it."_

_"He can help cos he's our friend Dean, that's what friends do and I can't work out why you're so afraid of seeing him."_

_"Because, Sam, the last time you asked Bobby for help, I ended up making a complete ass of myself - twice."_

_"What because you had the nerve to fucking show some emotion Dean? Oh yeah I mean how could you do that - I bet Bobby must have been really pissed."_

_"Shut up, Sam."_

_"Why? Because I'm right?"_

_Dean said nothing knowing he was losing the argument and Sam sighed._

_"Look, I'm not gonna force you, man, if you really don't wanna see him. But I still think someone should fill him in. I'll go alone if I have to."_

_"Oh that's nice Sam play the guilt card why don't you."_

_"Dean it's okay really, you don't wanna come fine, but **I** am. You can stay at the motel. It's not a problem really."_

_Dean glared at him then, incredibly pissed at the corner he had been backed into. Sam knew all too well that he wouldn't leave him to relay the news of their Dad's fate to Bobby on his own. The truth was he wasn't afraid of what Bobby would do or say he was afraid of what **he** would do. He was afraid that one look at the old man and he would lose it. Bobby had been cool about the last time. Said nothing had changed, forgave him for everything even though he didn't deserve it. It had pretty much killed him when Bobby had told him he was proud of him. And even when he had almost broken down again in that fucking diner he still hadn't look bothered. Still hadn't judged him. Pissed Bobby was far much easier to face than, kind compassionate good old father figure Bobby because it was **that** he couldn't face. It was just too hard and it just hurt too fucking much._

_TBC_

_hope you liked and yeah more shameless chick flick moments coming very soon - I'm such a girl_


	4. Chapter 4

**Thanks for the comments they made me happy. Hope you continue to enjoy this. Just one point to make if any of you have read Onari's fantastic "Remember This" you may find this next scene oddly familiar however I swear on my friend's hamster's life that it is purely, spookily coincidental as I wrote the scene weeks before I read Onari's so just as long as you don't all think I'm a plagiarist and send me mouldy cookies or anything :O Thanks ;)**

**Chapter 4**

The wetness on the ground soaks into his jeans like the wetness from his eyes soaking into Sammy's hair. Maybe if he holds on long enough it will be ok. Maybe if he screams his name loud enough he will wake up. He's aware that he's shaking and rocking back and forth, back and forth but he can't feel his brother's heartbeat anymore and there's no breath escaping his lungs. Maybe if he stays here with him for long enough he will wake up and none of this will have happened. It's dark, so dark but his eyes are closed anyway and there's no sound except for the sounds of someone breathing painfully and hitched like they're crying brokenly but trying hard not to.

Suddenly the dampness under his knees is gone and he feels a soft pair of lips on his and a feeling of melting, drifting away and a surge of warmth rushes through him. He brings his hand up to finger the richness of black silk and runs his hands through it, hypnotised, entranced in beauty, but then he can't breathe. He's choking and gasping for air that never comes and he can't pull away from her, she's inhaling the life right out of him, stealing it, sucking, suffocating devouring his being and then she suddenly releases him and he stares back into cold, blood red eyes, a self assured smile, mocking him, seducing him and she laughs coldly as he falls to his knees, still without breath and then he's alone again and Sammy is lying on the ground in front of him on his back, hands placed neatly on his abdomen He tries to get up to reach him but finds he cannot move and can only watch as Sam is dragged by an unseen force across the ground away from him towards a large tree some twenty feet away and he's sliding up the tree in a horribly unnatural way and the tree suddenly bursts into flames from the top just as Sam's eyes fly open and Dean can see clearly that they're yellow.

His eyes snap open and he takes in great gulps of warm, stale air, gasping like a newborn. His mind is muddled with images and colours and he turns his head to the side blinking them away and sees the deathly still form of his brother slightly illuminated by the lamp on the bedside which someone had forgot to switch off but the skin on his brother's face is grey and his hands are folded neatly on his abdomen and it only takes seconds for Dean to stagger to him.

He wonders if you can wake someone from the dead by giving them an order and doesn't hear his own screams begging his brother to come back to him, he doesn't see Sam's eyes fly open startled and confused and he doesn't realise his fingers are digging painfully into his little brother's arms as he tries to shake the life back into them.

"_**Sammy! Sam**_!"

Sam blinks away the sleep and attempts to focus his mind and he's a little scared and disorientated and struggles to remember what the hell is going on and why is brother is yelling at him. He winces in mild pain as his brother shakes him again still screaming his name and he does his best to push up which is difficult considering Dean is practically on top of him.

"Dean..."

His newly awakened voice sounds weak and cracked and it isn't loud enough to get through the haze, but he manages to sit himself up so he's eye to eye with his brother and Dean is just staring at him tears in his eyes but not really seeing him, with a look on his face that Sam wishes he had never seen.

"**_Sam!"_**

Another shake and the sound's of grief, desperation and pleading make him sick to his gut and he tries to silence them again because he can't bear to hear it.

He grabs the front of Dean's shirt and tries to get his attention by calling his name louder this time, now the remnants of sleep and confusion have all but dissolved but Dean just stares back repeating his name over and over clutching tightly to Sam's arms and he swears that Dean will draw blood soon if he doesn't release them but he doesn't know what to do to reach him. Gritting his teeth, wary of causing harm he prises Deans fingers out of his own flesh, regaining the use of his arms and considers striking him, but instead takes the wrists into one hand and pulls him close with the other, trapping Dean's hands between them, talking softly to him hoping that he will hear him soon and come out of the nightmare that he's trapped in.

"I'm here Dean I'm here. It's ok man I've got you, I've got you."

Dean begins to shake but the screams have diminished to hoarse cries now, his voice frail and broken.

"Sammy... Sam..."

"I'm here ok. I'm right here." Sam forces back his own tears even though hearing his brother sound so vulnerable, feeling his agony as if it were his own is breaking his heart and he wishes he had never had to see it or hear it but it's too late now he's seen too much and right now he doesn't think he'll ever get over it.

"Sam..."

"Yeah that's right I'm here ok. Just breathe man, you're ok. I'm here."

He forces himself to be strong, for Dean and relaxes only slightly when he feels his brother calm a little so loosens his hold allowing Dean to free his trapped arms and his heart almost shatters when he feels Dean's hands suddenly whip around and cling to the back of his t-shirt and he hears Dean whisper the childish nickname name once more before feeling him sink his face into his hair.

He holds his brother trying his best not to shake, or cry or throw up, the image of Dean's grief stricken face imprinted behind his eyes and suddenly he understands everything. He understands why Dean is different these days. He understands why the light has disappeared from his brother's once fiery green eyes and why now, where he once saw fierce determination and a refusal to yield he sees only defeat and fear. Not fear of death but fear of being left behind, left alone to deal with the guilt of being the only surviving member of a family doomed long ago. A man could only take so much and now he understands exactly how much Dean can actually take and he can't believe he had been so naive, so self centred to think that his brother, his protector could actually kill him just because he asked him to, could watch him die and get up and walk away, could actually continue his path not looking back, could actually choose not to make the horrifying decision which would save one of them and doom the other.

He had tried to imagine what Dean had been through but it had been hard. To imagine that he would have to imagine the reverse. The reverse being Sam rocking his big brother while his life slipped away from him unable to change the seconds when he had seen a stranger sever his only family's spinal chord and tearing them both in two.

How could he ever imagine that - the truth was he couldn't and he refused to and so he had selfishly pushed the thought out of his mind, unable to even think about the damage that would have been done to his soul. But that had meant he couldn't understand. He could never understand why Dean had done what he had condemned others for, what he had been so hurt and angry with their father for because how could he?

Until now.

_"You shouldn't have done that. How could you do that?"_

But now he knows the answer. How could he not?

He understands it all now but he just wishes he was ignorant to the horror of it because now he doesn't have to imagine how lost Dean must have been when he had left him, he can feel it with every shudder and cry his brother gives and he knows and he feels it as if he had lived it himself and he knows without question that he would have done the same.

He holds on a little tighter and closes his eyes trying to soothe his devastated older sibling back into sleep but what happens is something else.

It begins with a shudder and then he feels him tense, his breathing becomes rapid and desperate and then with a shove he's violently pushed away, falling back against the head board only able to watch as Dean staggers out of the room.

Sam runs after him, the bathroom door almost hitting him in the face when Dean slams it shut behind him. The retches start before Sam makes it to his side but he kneels next to him, a hand rubbing his back, trying to provide comfort and encouraging the poison to come forward and out of his brother.

He watches, tears burning his eyes as Dean empties his stomach, the cramps doubling him up painfully. The sound of vomit hitting water, and groans and gasps of discomfort fill the bathroom and Sam tries to block it out, tries not to gag as the acrid stench assaults his senses. After every wrenching heave Dean hangs limp his hands resting on the back of the toilet, breathing heavily, tears streaming down is ashen cheeks and every time Sam thinks it's over until another comes and the torture begins again as more fluid and partially digested matter forces it's way out of Dean's stomach. The vomit keeps pouring out of him and it splashes around the toilet bowl, and the seat and some finds it's way on to the floor and on his shirt and the smell becomes unbearable and increases the nausea bringing about another round.

And another round and then another.

The vomit ceases it's violent stream long before the retching does and Sam watches helpless as Dean is wracked with painful dry heaves, groaning as the muscles in his stomach contract, spitting bile and saliva from his mouth and breathing out hard, hitched sobs as if he is losing his soul little by little. He shudders again and then cries out as another dry heave comes and Sam can't make it stop he can only sit there and watch. He finds a cloth on the sink and soaks it with cold water before bringing it to his brother's face allowing the cold to soothe and calm the burning, trembling skin.

Time eventually eases Dean's suffering and the cramps slow and finally come to a stop leaving Dean exhausted and empty kneeling over the toilet with his head lowered, shaking and shivering and his breath gasping and uneven and Sam wipes his face and neck again after rinsing out the sweat and vomit in the sink and then fills a cup with water before lifting it for Dean to take, but his hands are shaking so Sam helps him and he takes a mouthful, rinses, then spits out the remainder of the filth left in his mouth before taking another gulp. He swallows it down greedily, letting the water soothe the dry, acidic, burn in his throat hoping it will cleanse him and rid him of the rot inside.

He's still shaking and obviously fighting back tears and sobs but Sam pretends not to notice and helps him to his feet leading him back to his bed.

"Come on dude let's get you outta hear. Man you stunk the place out, do you have _any_ of your organs left in there?"

Sam's attempt at levity is lost on Dean as he sits heavily on his bed and then Sam tries to get him to lie down but he resists the idea apparently abhorrent to him.

"No! I can't."

His voice is so raspy it makes him sound like a child begging for more time to stay up with his father and Sam helps him to sit up on the edge of the bed his hand resting on the middle of his back ready to catch him should he fall.

"It's ok man. You don't have to."

Dean shudders and leans forward every muscle still trembling, shaken, traumatised, and he rests his elbows on his knees, hands hiding his face.

Sam moves off the bed and crouches in front of him taking his shoulders feeling the tremors and the pain and the terror beneath his hands and they stay like that for a time Sam not letting go. The shudders eventually ease and Sam takes Dean's wrists, gently removing his hands from his face and Dean lets him but doesn't look up and he wishes Sam had waited a little longer until he'd gained some sort of control, but right now he has no control and nothing to stop the grief from returning and he feels the undeniable feeling of something warm and wet trickling down his face and then what he knows as his brother's soft cool hand gripping his cheek firmly, brushing away the moisture with his thumb and he doesn't mean to but he can't help but flinch when he feels it.

His chest is tight and he suddenly finds it difficult to swallow and he feels his chin trembling involuntarily so he clenches his jaw hoping it will reverse what he knows is coming and he realises it's pointless and thinks about locking himself alone in the bathroom until it all ends but just as he's about to bolt for the door he finds himself being pulled into a pair of familiar, strong arms and he hates himself when his own arms betray the order from his brain to push them away and instead wrap themselves tightly around his baby brother's back and he presses his face into the crook of Sam's neck in a futile attempt to smother the awful sobs that are about to return.

Sam reaches up and envelops his brother ignoring the pain in his back this time and allowing Dean to hold on, instead of like before when he had pushed him away ignorant to the sacrifice he had just made and unknowing of how much Dean needed to hold him and be held back. He closes his eyes and sinks his fingers into the sweat soaked hair whispering softly so the sound of unshed tears in his voice cannot be heard.

"I'm sorry man, I'm so sorry. I didn't know... I didn't know."

They hold on to each other tightly and Sam forces himself to listen to the terrible sounds escaping his brother's soul allowing them to tear through him until they eventually grow quiet and Dean falls limp and exhausted in Sam's arms.

-------------------------

_It was late afternoon when they arrived outside Bobby's front door and Dean just sat there as if waiting a few more minutes would help. Sam sat there too waiting as he always did and Dean couldn't believe how fucking scared he felt. He noticed that his hands were shaking and folded them in his lap so that Sam wouldn't notice and there was that feeling again like his insides were gonna come pouring out of him. And then Sam put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed._

_"It'll be okay man. I'm right here ok."_

_And then Dean had looked right at him and tried to scowl as if to say "Dude, get off me I'm fine." But he must not have pulled it off too well because Sam had given him that look he always gave him when he didn't know what the hell to say so he figured he must look pretty fucking miserable right now. He turned away and looked back out through the windshield, breathed in and then out then turned back to his little brother._

_"So we just gonna sit here all day then or what?"_

_Sam hadn't looked amused or impressed and shrugged wincing a little before looking away and then they had both gotten out of the car simultaneously, closing both their doors at precisely the same moment like two halves of a mirror image._

_The walk to the front door seemed longer than usual and Dean's feet felt heavy, weighing him down more and more with every step as if some fun loving dick had stuck lead to the soles of his boots just for the sheer hell of it; but Sam was at his side matching his pace almost as if their ankles were tied together like in those dumb three legged races that kids did for fun and he wondered if someone had stuck lead to Sam's shoes too. Or maybe they were just tied together after all. Maybe Sam couldn't walk faster because he was tethered to Dean and had no choice. Maybe Sam's feet were heavy because Dean's were and were dragging him down, holding him back and he wondered for a micro second what it would take for Sam to break free. _

_They were only a few feet from the door when that sickening feeling in his gut arrived and his throat went dry and that was the moment he realised that he wouldn't be able to hide one thing from Bobby - not one fucking thing._

_------------------------------_

_"_You can't blame yourself Bobby; you're not the boy's father."

Bobby pours himself another glass of whiskey then remembering his manners slides the tumbler across to the woman sat across from him at the small table before getting his own.

"You think I don't know that?"

He drains the glass in one just as before and ignores the raised disapproving eyebrow that Ellen shoots him.

He closes his eyes and takes in a shaky breath trying to blot out the sounds and the smell that his mind couldn't forget. He glances at the clock noting the time and thinks what business do they have being up at this hour but then what business do they have sleeping in these times that are now upon them. Besides how the hell are you supposed to sleep when in the next room you can hear what is clearly someone losing their lunch not to mention their soul.

He hadn't got up until he'd heard the soft crying sounds come to an end. He'd not investigated, just cleaned up the mess in the bathroom and left them alone. Sam was there, he knew and he had no place to interfere, but sometimes he felt like he should just damn well interfere and have done with it.

"You can't fix him and you shouldn't have to."

Ellen takes a sip and rolls her eyes as Bobby downs yet another glass in one and then glares at the woman daring her to rebuke him.

"_**What?**_!"

Ellen shakes her head.

"You weren't there Ellen. You didn't see - see him like that. You didn't see what it was like."

Ellen looks away her eyes shining a little.

"No. No I didn't. But you still can't change anything."

She leans forward and puts a hand on his arm but for some reason he can't look at her.

"You couldn't protect them. It wasn't your fault. They're _not _yours."

"Yeah, well maybe it's time things changed. I've never seen him so lost Ellen. It was like he really believed he had no one. Who's fault is that Ellen, that he thinks he's all alone?"

"It's no ones fault Bobby. It sure as hell aint yours."

"I gave him hell you know. It was just before you showed up. I yelled at him, accused him of being just like his dad."

Ellen fixes her gaze on the man in front of her hand gripping the glass, knuckles white.

"Wanna know what he said?"

Bobby stares right back into her eyes, sees tears there, sees fear.

"He said that that was the point. His dad brought him back and he wasn't even supposed to be here and that this way maybe his life could mean something."

The two sets of eyes don't falter and Ellen's flicker, glistening in the lamp light until she blinks, looks the other way and knocks back her drink.

"He told me to take a shot. And I wanted to so bad I gotta tell y'. But how could I? He just looked at me like this lost little kid and _begged_ me not to tell Sam. And now he knows anyway and it's all completely screwed. It's too late for both of 'em. I should have straightened that kid out a long time ago. The kid has no one to look to and I should have been there."

"You were Bobby and you still are. Besides he still has Sam."

"Sam's just a kid. Besides, it's not his fault, but he's half the problem. If it wasn't for the fact that Dean thinks his only purpose, his only reason for living is to protect Sam, then maybe none of this would have happened."

Ellen looks at her glass swirling the brown liquid around.

"You'd rather Sam was dead?"

"I didn't say that. You know how I feel about _both_ of those boys but this - it's wrong Ellen. It's wrong and no good will come of it. I mean what's it gonna do to Sam when he realises he can't save his brother?"

"To be honest with you Bobby, I'd rather not think about that."

"You know when John was alive, I used to sit back and watch the way he spoke to Dean. Always balling him out, always quick to point out the boy's faults. Not once did I ever hear him say 'You did good' or 'I'm proud of you.' With Sammy it was different. The kid had a mouth on him that even John didn't know what to do with. He never bought into it, always the little rebel that one."

He chuckles slightly.

"But Dean. He was like a sponge. Took it all in. All of it. And he believed everything that man told him and hung on every word. He was just a kid how the hell was he supposed to read between the lines and realise he wasn't just a damn body guard to his little brother. But John never said it, never told him, just assumed Dean knew. I let that happen and I could have stopped it. But I didn't, I just sat back...and watched. And now, well it's too late aint it?"

Ellen glared at him then.

"Do you really think John would've listened to you? Do you honestly think it would've made a difference if you'd stood up to him and said 'hey John about you tell your son how great he is from time to time?' the man would have either shot you or punched you for even daring to tell him how to raise his boys."

"You make him sound like a complete asshole."

"He was. At times."

"It wasn't easy for him. He did the best he could and in a whole lot o' ways they both turned out pretty damn well considering. But John...he couldn't see past his damn obsession. But _I_ could. I could have tried. _I_ was his friend, it was my job to haul him up straight when he messed up. And I didn't - I failed him Ellen. And I failed Dean."

------------------

_Bobby opened the door an__d greeted them with that usual grin of his - Dean could never figure out how he always managed to look pleased to see them but he always did and he reckoned that the old man really should get out more._

_Dean managed to avoid eye contact which was no easy thing considering he could feel Bobby's glare on him as soon as they stepped over the threshold. _

_Sam exchanged the expected pleasantries with the veteran hunter but Dean wasn't really in the mood for pleasantries so said nothing and he could still feel Bobby glowering at him. He took their coats and motioned for them to take a seat on his old worn couch which they did and Sam smiled as Bobby took a seat opposite after asking them if he could get them a drink._

_"No we're fine thanks Bobby."_

_Dean looked at him then in an attempt to let him know that actually he could murder a glass of whiskey but Sam just looked back and shrugged and then Dean remained silent, felt those eyes on him again and he guessed that he had not done a great job of hiding the shit in his head from Bobby considering how he was looking at him. Was he really that transparent? Was it that obvious that his brain was screaming at him and his soul was dying one second at a time?_

_"So what brings the two of you here?"_

_Dean looked up at him briefly and realised the glare had gone as Bobby glanced at the two of them in turn but he still looked suspicious as if he knew that this was no ordinary social call._

_"What can't we just drop in on an old friend..?"_

_Dean's voice trailed off when the eyes snapped back to him, once again making him nervous._

_"Sure you can, Dean, anytime. You know that. But somethin' tells me that this isn't one of those times."_

_Dean dropped his eyes to the floor and noticed Sam squirming a little so he scratched the back of his neck and looked out of the window hoping that this moment would soon pass and wondering how the hell he knew. How did he do that? He wasn't a bad liar in fact he was a damn good one but somehow his act never seem to work on the old hunter. He didn't like it one bit and it sucked to the amount of a thousand decibels._

_"So. What. Happened?"_

_Bobby's tone wasn't the kind normally used to enquire about why you had a black eye or why your car was looking a bit worse for wear because you had just reversed it into a block of flats, or why your hair was now a puke shade of green and in dread locks it was the sort of question that said what the hell have you been doing now and why didn't you call me sooner and so help me you better give me a straight answer or you'll be damn sorry you ever messed with me._

_It was also the sort of tone that made it very difficult to respond to without showing any hint of emotional vulnerability which he wasn't too good at - ever - so he didn't. Respond that is. He knew it was cowardly and that Sam would step in but he couldn't he just couldn't. And then of course Sammy did step in right on cue. As predicted._

_"It's not good Bobby, but we figured you had a right to know."_

_Bobby frowned._

_"A right to know what?"_

_Dean thought that the old man looked worried. Like different worried, not worried like 'what have you been up to now?' worried but worried as in 'you're not about to tell me that one of you is gay are you?' worried or worse 'you're both gay?' worried. It amused him a little. The sheer look of horrified panic on Bobby's face and he was tempted to go with it, but only for a second but Sam being Sam completely missed the opportunity._

_"It's this case we were working on. It's... well we found something out... something...well...about..."_

_"**Sam**."_

_He wasn't sure what made him interrupt his little brother but maybe it was an attack of conscience but something seemed to remind him that **he** was the big brother and he should be the one to give Bobby the news._

_Sam looked at him sympathetically. That puppy dog expression he used when he was trying to persuade Dean into letting him give him a hug or something and Dean had looked back at him and given him a bit of a smile just to let him know that it was ok. This was **his** job._

_"Something about what?"_

_He turned back to Bobby and looked him square in the eyes and Bobby was glaring again and he was a little disappointed not to see relief there. Relief that his old friend's two sons weren't about to come 'out' to him but he shrugged it off and told himself to quit stalling and get on with it._

_"Something about Dad."_

_Bobby just stared at him and Dean didn't falter he just held his gaze and allowed Bobby to stare right into his eyes, into his fucking soul and he wanted to yell at the old man and say 'well here it is then, you wanna know, take a good look!'_

_Then Bobby blinked and scratched the back of his head uncomfortably before turning to Sam and he knew it was coming but he swore his stomach dropped about three foot when Bobby casually asked Sam if he would like to take their stuff to the room they usually stayed in with what he supposed was a knowing look. Damn those two and their fucking knowing looks and he wondered why it was always Sam who got the knowing looks and not him. Didn't he deserve a knowing look from time to time? Hadn't he earned at least one knowing look in his life? He watched not particularly happy as Sam walked away leaving him alone with Bobby and thought to himself how did it always fucking end up like this._

_Dean stared at the carpet and Bobby stared at Dean and it seemed like hell would freeze over before one of them would speak and then Dean looked up and he guessed that he must look a little sad because Bobby winced slightly almost unnoticeable and Dean tried to smile but only one side of his mouth seemed to work and that sick feeling was back again._

_"Dean. What happened?"_

_Dean chuckled, looking at his feet again, he wasn't sure why because it was a little inappropriate but it just came out and he just sat there his hands fidgeting and he looked up twice before he finally managed to make eye contact._

_"This job we were on. People dyin' unexplained deaths. Talkin' about being chased by dogs. Wild, nasty dogs."_

_"You saying you hunted a **Black Dog**?"_

_Dean chuckled again._

_"Now you see that's what we thought. Turns out it was more like a Hell Dog. Or rather Hell **Hound."**_

_Bobby frowned and Dean could tell he didn't like where this was going. He got that he did, he hadn't liked where it was going either._

_"Turns out people were doing these deals. With a demon. I'm sure you've heard of it. You have to bury a whole bunch of stuff including your photo at a crossroads and then she comes and offers you anything and I mean **anything** you like..."_

_"In exchange for your soul."_

_And there it was. If that wasn't a knowing look then he would eat his boots. Bobby locked eyes with him and told him without words that he understood, that he got it. _

_"I think they got ten years. Ten years of happiness before... I guess it doesn't matter if it's ten years or ten minutes the end result's still the same..."_

_Dean watched Bobby scrub a hand across his face as the reality hit him and suddenly felt sickened when he realised how hard this must be for his dad's old friend and shit what if he blamed him. He suddenly found that he couldn't look at the older man anymore and kept his eyes on his hands picking at the skin on his thumb. He let out a shaky breath and could practically feel Bobby's eyes boring into him and there was that unbelievably powerful urge to bolt again._

_"I'm...I'm sorry Bobby. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."_

_"What the hell you gotta be sorry about."_

_Dean stood up walking away and refused to answer such a fucking stupid question._

_"Dean, I asked you..."_

_"You **know** why."_

_Dean spun back round to face him then, suddenly very pissed but he doubted that the anger could hide the tears in his eyes. Bobby was standing now in front of him and apparently not backing down._

_"He was your friend and now he's in hell. Because of **me**."_

_"You can't know that..."_

_"**I KNOW!**"_

_Bobby held up his hands and took a step closer. _

_"Look Dean. We've been here before. **None** of this is your fault. You hear me? None of it."_

_Dean looked at the floor unable to answer and of course that wasn't good enough for the old man._

_"Dean?"_

_It was a warning and a question rolled into one but he still couldn't answer so he just looked up a little his eyes flickering from side to side and Bobby took another step closer taking a fistful of his shirt causing him to flinch._

_"Dean."_

_Now why did he have to do that? Why couldn't he just leave well alone instead of inviting these uncomfortable situations into their lives and forcing recognition which never did anyone any good? Dean managed to look up and they stared at each other for a while until Dean knocked his hand away and turned for the door, something that he was becoming an expert at these days unfortunately he really had to work on actually going through the door without being faced with the indignity of being dragged back in again and just for a change he didn't make it very far before Bobby grabbed his arm spinning him back round to face him and just for a change he discovered that his eyes were once again on the verge of turning a perfectly ok day into yet another angst fest but just because he could he kept them wide so that the tears wouldn't spill and let everyone know what a fucking loser he was._

_Bobby had hold of both his arms now and he just stared at the floor because there was nowhere else to look and he started to weigh up just how much effort it would take to shrug Bobby's iron grip off him a second time but before he could act on it he found himself being pulled into the older hunter's arms and he thought shit how fucking miserable must he look for Bobby to risk getting a smack in the jaw. He instinctively stiffened but wasn't too surprised to find that he hadn't the strength to pull away and then he felt his body shaking slightly and not just his hands and a feeling rising from his stomach into his chest and throat and he just couldn't hold it down and he wished he could but he just wasn't strong enough and his eyes were really burning and there were drops of water trickling down his cheeks, so he ducked his head, pressing his face - hiding it from no one in particular - into Bobby's shoulder and before he knew it he was clinging to the older man like a little kid and he could hear the sounds of muffled, gasping sobs and he realised that they were his._

_He felt so fucking pathetic and ashamed right then and wished he could just disappear and the more Bobby rocked him the harder he cried and he could hear above his own cries Bobby whispering to him that he was ok and that he'd got him which made him cry even harder and hate himself even more, but what he hated himself for most was the fact that just for a second, one second, he wished that Bobby was his father not John Winchester because then his father would still be alive and with him and able to hold him when he couldn't let anyone else near him and because he wouldn't have to carry this grief and this debilitating guilt which was destroying him day by day._

_-------------------------------_

Sam is dozing lightly his sleeping brother lying next to him, on his side, his back to him. Sam had managed to lie him down when the tears had given way to sleep but had decided this wasn't the time to leave him or give him space so had remained by his side, propped up against the bed head just in case. Just in case. He had watched him sleep and tried to pretend they were normal. A normal family who were just having a bad day and had just recovered from a bad fight which was about nothing important anyway. But normal people generally don't have nightmares that reduce them to throwing up or falling apart or crying themselves to sleep in their baby brother's arms so it had been hard and so he isn't that surprised when he is woken form his light slumber with a start when Dean jerks and kicks him in the shin before rolling on to his back.

Sam sits up blinking away the tiredness and turns to look down into terrified orbs of pale green, framed by too pale skin, shiny with a sheen of cold sweat. He gasps for air his heart racing and Sam places a hand on his arm trying to draw him back to reality and away from the remains of the nightmare but then thinks bitterly that this reality isn't that much better.

"Hey."

He fixes his eyes on his brother's and is relieved to see recognition there before Dean looks away and uses Sam's arm to pull himself up. He slides his legs off the bed and sits on the edge staring straight ahead waiting for his breathing to return to normal and Sam takes a seat at his side, also waiting.

"I'm sorry."

Sam frowns and turns to look at Dean whose hands have now dropped to his lap his head lowered, face hidden from view.

"What? Dean what for?"

"I didn't expect you to figure it all out. I thought I could keep it from you, protect you. I didn't want you to go though all this. I'm sorry, Sam. You have to believe..."

"Dean stop okay? You don't get to be sorry alright. You've nothing to be sorry for, me on the other hand..."

"Sam, don't."

So Sam doesn't and instead sighs.

"I didn't mean it you know?"

Dean looks at him quizzical.

"What I said - I was full of crap, man. I would have done the same. There's no way I couldn't. And yeah maybe it would have been stupid or selfish and maybe you'd hate me for it but I know that there's no _way_ I could have carried on."

Dean smiles a little but shakes his head.

"I know I treated you like crap and I was a complete asshole..."

"Sam, I said don't okay?"

"Why?"

"I just...I don't wanna do this. I don't..."

"You deserve better Dean. I sure as hell don't deserve you."

"Sam, _enough_, okay?"

"No."

"Excuse me?"

"I said no, Dean. It's not okay. You give up everything for me, put yourself through hell, literally and I treat you like garbage. I ripped you to pieces and not one word of it was true."

"Sam...You were right to be pissed...You weren't supposed to find out, but you did and that's my fault."

"Yeah everything's always your fault isn't it Dean. I mean you're to blame for fucking **everything!"**

Dean looks away and it pisses Sam off even more.

"Don't do that, you need to hear this man cos I've just about had enough."

He crouches in front of his brother again taking him by the shoulders, forcing eye contact.

"Look. I know you think that I don't need you and that I would do just fine without you, but you're wrong."

Dean looks away again and Sam gives him a little shake.

"Listen to me, Dean. I wouldn't last five minutes without you and you know what? I wouldn't want to."

Dean gives him just the hint of a smile but doesn't look up.

"And I know what you're thinking, but that's not what I mean. I'm not talking about you savin' my ass all the time like you do, I'm talkin' about like, the fact that I need you cos your my brother and I kinda like having you around and...well there are days when you don't completely piss me off and those dumb ass jokes you make somehow make me feel better about this messed up life of ours and then some days I just can't believe how lucky I am to have you and it kinda makes up for the fact that our lives are weird and messed up and I think that I wouldn't change one damn thing and if anything happened to you... I'd just... I dunno man I'd just lose it. That'd be it for me. So... I guess we're not all that different after all huh?"

His voice breaks a little and he hopes Dean understands but he just looks up eyes empty and weary.

"You done?"

Sam shrugs and smiles sadly.

"No not really, But I have no idea what to say to you anyway so..."

Sam gets up and sits back on the bed next to his brother.

"You don't have to say anything Sammy."

"Don't I? Isn't there something that I should be doing or saying to make everything better? I mean this can't be it right. I have no idea what we're gonna do Dean and I have no idea what to do with all this. It's... it's too much...it's too hard..."

He looks away as his voice falters, the tears returning but not before he sees Dean wince in sympathy.

"Listen, Sam. It's okay. I mean I should have died like a hundred times already. The chances I've had to put things right...and I never did...It's like this is how it should be - after everything - I mean I'm no saint Sam...there's been so much shit - I guess it's all finally caught up with me. It's really nothing more than I deserve. I guess I'm finally getting what I've had coming for way too long."

He stands to look out of the window oblivious to how his words have retrieved the anger in Sam's messed up head and Sam can see that Dean really didn't see it coming when he grabs him, spins him around and shoves him hard against the wall.

"Don't you say that, don't you ever say that... how can you...?"

"Because it's true Sam! I mean come on. I'm a liar and a killer and I've cheated death so many times it's getting weird. I've killed more than anyone can imagine and not all of them deserved it either. I failed to protect the only family I have left and I sold my soul to hell, I mean does it get any worse Sam? If anyone had it coming then it's me, you have to admit that."

Sam bristles with fury and shoves Dean harder into the wall before drawing back his fist and Dean just stares back at him eyes wide and full, waiting for the blow he obviously thinks he deserves and several seconds pass until Sam blinks, drops his fist and lets go of his brother. He stares at him, his eyes flickering and then steps back ducking his head before he turns away so that Dean won't see the tears fall.

"I'm not gonna let her have you Dean. You may have given in but I haven't. I'm gonna fight this, I swear I'm gonna fight this right until the last second."

"You can't fight destiny, Sam."

Sam shakes his head wiping away his tears wondering when it was exactly that his brother decided he was so worthless and why he hadn't noticed.

"I'm sorry, Dean. I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"I should have done more. I should have tried harder."

But Dean doesn't understand.

"Get some sleep Sammy."

And Sam nods accepting that it is too late to fix his brother now. Far too late.

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N ok so here's the thingy. I was intending on carrying this story on right throughout Season 3 but as I didn't make that clear in the beginning and it's a little unfair of me to expect you to commit to a long running epic without prior warning, this will be the final chapter. I am however planning a sequel as Season 3 progresses. I have no idea what I'm gonna do with it as I don't do AU and I lost my psychic powers when Dean killed the YED ; ) sometimes life can suck. So if you like - it can end here, but if you want more than keep an eye out for part 2 posted as a separate story. It will most likely have the same title with part 2 stuck on the end - imaginative eh? **

**Once again thanks loads for reading, favouriting, and adding to your alerts and big thanks to everyone who reviewed. It always makes me smile. Enjoy. **

**Chapter 5 **

It's seven am and Sam has gone for a walk with Ellen. His head feels fuzzy and muddled with fog because even though he tried he didn't get a lot of sleep last night. He thinks that a walk might clear the mist and help him get things straight and then maybe he can start work on a solution to this latest pile of shit that has fallen into his lap. Ellen goes with him although he's not sure why. He thinks maybe because she needs to breathe clean air into her lungs too but she looks at him in an odd way that tells him there is another reason. Maybe she feels sorry for him. He doesn't really care; she can feel sorry for him if she wants to it won't make a difference.

He left before Dean got out of the shower. They spoke briefly on awakening but Sam doesn't want to look at him right now because it reminds him of what he's going to lose and every time he stares into the fading green eyes he feels a little of his own soul break off and float away so he had just told Bobby he wouldn't be too long and Ellen had cheerfully asked if he wanted some company and he had shrugged and said he didn't mind.

They walk in silence making the most of the cool morning air wondering how long they have before it turns stagnant, thick with the scent of death and decay. He knows the dark is out there waiting for them and is in fact already here occupying the same space just slightly out of phase and it's only a matter of time before the two dimensions shift and collide in an explosion too great and devastating to comprehend. The early morning suns turns the trees a pale golden colour, casting long shadows across the ground and Sam thinks to himself that if you didn't know there was an ugly and terrifying war about to start you would think what a beautiful world it was that you walked upon.

He shivers a little and shoves his hands deep into the pockets of his hoodie and Ellen looks across at him but he says nothing.

--------------------------

Bobby is sat at the breakfast table reading a paper and sipping a mug of coffee when Dean walks in quietly, sheepishly, his hair wet and tousled making him look a like a small boy about to confess something to his uncle. He hesitates and slips discreetly into a seat opposite the older man who doesn't look up but casually continues to read his paper.

Dean clears his throat nervously before speaking.

"Um Bobby? About last night..."

Bobby looks up and their eyes meet and Dean offers Bobby a crooked grin.

"Sorry. About the mess, I mean."

Bobby shrugs as if cleaning up vomit is something he does every day and a task he actually enjoys.

"It's no bother. Eat something your stomach didn't approve of huh?"

Dean's eyes drop to the table and he smiles half heartedly but gratefully.

"Yeah, somethin' like that."

Bobby sighs a little and folds up the paper.

"So, you sort things out with Sam?"

Dean doesn't look up from the table and the smile fades.

"I guess."

"As much as they _can_ be sorted huh?"

"Yeah."

There's a brief silence as Bobby lifts his mug with both hands and takes a sip of the hot coffee but he doesn't take his eyes off Dean who is still looking down at the table.

"He says he's going to save me, Bobby."

"What were you expectin'?"

Dean's head jerks up and he fixes Bobby with an angry glare.

"He can't. I won't let him. I brought this on myself and now... well, I'm just gonna have to suck it up."

"Dean we're talkin' about eternity here. As in forever?"

Dean shakes his head and his voice drops to just above a whisper.

"It doesn't matter. Besides I can't risk... I won't risk her killing him."

Bobby frowns.

"If I try to welch on the deal, it's over. Sam's dead. It's not gonna happen Bobby. You have to talk him out of it."

"Not gonna happen, Dean."

Dean slams his hand down on the table.

"Damn it Bobby, this is how it's supposed to be."

"Will you stop?! I'm not gonna sit and listen to this."

Bobby gets up and goes to refill his coffee and gets Dean one while he's there and Dean watches.

"You don't understand, Bobby. I brought this on myself. What's that saying? Pride comes before a fall? I mean who was I to judge huh?"

"What you talkin' about."

Dean sighs and looks down at his hands.

"Remember that zombie bitch we told you about. The one who broke Sam's hand? It was just before... well...you know."

Bobby nods saying nothing but returns to his seat sliding a scratched and stained mug full of strong coffee across the table to Dean and takes a gulp of his own..

"I mean, I wasn't doin' too good back then and I acted like a complete asshole. I laid into the chick's dad and it turns out it wasn't even him it was the girl's friend so then I laid into him too. I was all 'what's dead should stay dead' and 'you don't mess with that stuff ' and then when it comes to the crunch I'm just as bad right? But how am I better than him? What's dead should stay dead? Even the Yellow Eyed Demon didn't fail to see the irony. I mean that must make me the biggest hypocrite in the world."

Bobby stares at him but still remains quiet.

"And then there was this guy - Evan - the one who made the deal to save his wife. I let him have it too. Told him that he did it for himself not his wife so's he wouldn't have to be alone. The exact same thing that Sam said to me and he's right isn't he? It's the same. Sam's so pissed with me right now just like I was with Dad. I just kept thinkin' how could he do that to me and now Sam must be thinkin' the same about me. What kind of a scumbag am I Bobby?"

Bobby heaves a soul weary sigh and rubs his face with a calloused hand.

"So, you finally admitting that it was a mistake? The deal I mean?"

Dean shakes his head looking away.

"No. No, I just wish that I'd kept Sammy in the dark. I should have tried harder to keep it from him. I mean I didn't even put up a fight. He goes 'tell me the truth' and I cave like a little kid."

"You can't keep much from that one Dean, you should know that. But what about the deal. Don't you think that was all kindsa stupid? Even if Sam didn't know what was gonna happen, it wouldn't change the fact that he loses his brother in a year."

"He would've been ok. This job we do. Sooner or later it was bound to happen. Sam would have been ok with that."

Bobby glares at him.

"If you really believe that then you're a fool."

Dean breaks eye contact, uncomfortable under Bobby's fierce gaze. He _does_ believe that, he always has. He has to, how can he not? How can he continue without believing that somehow his little brother would be alright - carry on living and move on with his life? He had to believe that because the alternative was unthinkable.

"Can you not admit to me that it was a mistake? I mean damnit Dean you're allowed to not want to die. Just tell me it was a mistake. Tell me that you know it was wrong."

"How can I? Sam's alive isn't he? That's all that matters. And yeah from another perspective maybe it was morally wrong and abhorrent but, you know that's me all over Bobby."

Bobby blinks his eyes glistening and Dean looks back down at his hands again.

Bobby doesn't know how to respond to that. He has a thousand things going through his mind that he wants to say, to make Dean listen, but he knows that not one of them would make a difference. Not one thing would repair the damage done long ago to Dean's soul.

"I'm sorry, Dean. I should have tried harder. I should have done more."

Dean looks up, his eyes narrowed, questioning and Bobby shakes his head, his eyes downcast and Dean doesn't understand but Bobby does and he knows he should have seen it coming.

----------------------

_When he'd finished crying and Bobby saw fit to let him go he couldn't seem to do anything but stand there staring at his feet. He could never remember what you were supposed to do at moments like this when you had just embarrassed yourself and you could barely look at the person you had humiliated yourself in front of. He was relieved that Bobby seemed to know, Bobby didn't seem to be too bothered and casually guided him over to the couch where he sat him down. He disappeared for a minute then returned with two glasses of whiskey and Dean thought that if he hadn't shown himself up enough already he would have kissed the older man. Instead he settled for a grateful nod and a half smile because it seemed to be a little more socially acceptable anyway. _

_He took a sip of the comforting liquid and felt it burn it's way down his throat as Bobby took a seat opposite him._

_"So you sure about all this. I mean I know it all fits but..."_

_"I'm sure Bobby."_

_"But how, I mean how can you know for sure."_

_Dean looked up._

_"Because she told me."_

_"What? You saw her, you **summoned** her?"_

_Dean shrugged like it was no big deal._

_"I had to. I had to get her to call her dogs off. Took a little bit of good old fashioned deception but we pulled it off."_

_"Sure you did." _

_The older man smiled with what Dean thought might just be pride but he wouldn't accept it. What was there to be proud of anyway? His Dad in hell. Maybe not his decision but because of him, instead of him and he couldn't help him._

**_"If you could see your poor daddy. Hear the sounds he makes 'cause he can't even scream."_ **

_The words replayed over and over in his head and he tried so hard to block them out to pretend they were never spoken but they just kept repeating themselves in a loop tormenting him, mocking him and eating away at his sanity. She was right though, it should have been him but it wasn't and maybe he should have made that deal but how could he do that to Sam? It would have been so easy just to make the damn deal and it would have been worth it just for the chance to see his Dad again. Ten years. He would have done it for ten days, just to tell his Dad all the things that he wished he had before he had walked away from him forever. But he hadn't, because of Sam and he knew he would never be able to look him in the eye and tell him what he had done but those words just wouldn't leave him alone, hearing them on constant replay was torture, his own private hell and he knew that it would never end but he could feel something digging into his arm, someone's fingers, it hurt a little and then something shook him._

**_"DEAN!"_ **

_"Hm?" he coughed a little clearing his throat and his voice before he looked up and saw Bobby knelt in front of him looking confused, maybe or even scared._

_"You were zoning out on me there buddy. You ok?"_

_He nodded blinking away the tears which he hadn't realised were filling his eyes._

_"Yeah, I'm fine. Sorry."_

_Bobby studied him for a few more seconds before releasing his arm and going back to his seat._

_"So, what did she say to you?"_

_"It doesn't matter. It was enough for me to know where Dad is."_

_"But what makes you think she was telling the truth? Demons lie Dean, you and I both know that."_

_"Not this time. It all makes sense. I guess deep down I knew all along. I knew Dad had done a deal with his soul but I guess it never really hit me that he was in hell. Being tortured while I go about my merry way..."_

_"Dean. Knock it off."_

_"What, Bobby? Dad's in hell because of me. We all know it but what makes it even worse is how screwed up it all is I mean it's all... I dunno - upside down."_

_Dean put his glass down and stood walking a few feet away from Bobby. He turned and leaned heavily against the wall behind him a little worried his legs may give way but he had to put some distance between them although he was wasting his time it seemed because Bobby got up and followed him._

_"What the hell are you talkin' about?"_

_Dean sighs giving himself a moment to steady his voice._

_"It should have been me Bobby. If anyone... if anyone deserved to go to hell it was me, not Dad."_

_He wasn't sure if it was the total lack of response, the eerie silence or something else that made him look up but when he did he saw the rage in Bobby's eyes and immediately froze every muscle tensing, his eyes instantly filling with tears again._

_He decided to speak first before Bobby could, a pre-emptive strike but before he could get the words out Bobby grabbed his shirt, jerked him forward before slamming him into the wall to his rear._

_"What did you say?"_

_He shook his head and wondered why this man could always scare the shit out of him when he had faced down things that some people didn't even dream about in their worst nightmares and he couldn't understand why the man could always take away his ability to speak with one look and bring him to the verge of tears just by yelling at him._

_"Didn't we have this talk already? Did I not smack enough sense into you?!"_

_He received another shake and the sense of de ja vu wasn't lost on either man._

_"Now you listen to me kid cos I'm only gonna say this once. Your dad didn't deserve that but **neither do you!**"_

_"How can you say that Bobby? You know as well as I do that I've had it coming. I mean after everything... after everything I've done..."_

_"**Enough!"**_

_Bobby cut him off sharply using one word synchronised with a smack to the side of his face. _

_He could take a punch off anyone but a clip off Bobby and he was flinching like a scared kid. He looked down at his feet and swallowed back the sob telling himself not to be such a baby. The smack could have been worse but it stung all the same and he raised a hand to his cheek with the intention of rubbing it away but instead swiped at his eyes which were in greater need of his attention just as Bobby started on him again._

_"Enough, ok? I don't know where you're getting this crap from, this belief that you're to blame for every damn thing Dean, but it ends now you hear? You get this crap out of your head right now, cos I don't **ever** wanna hear you talkin' like that again, hell I don't want you even thinkin' it, you hear me?"_

_He knew that he should answer the pissed off hunter right away but for some reason he was frozen and couldn't speak so he kept his eyes fixed on the floor knowing that if he raised them he would lose it again which succeeded in pissing off the pissed off red neck even more earning him yet another shake. What was it with him these days? Every one around him seemed to think that he needed to be yelled at, shook and generally smacked around, why the hell couldn't they all just leave him alone._

_The third time Bobby yelled at him, demanding a response, he figured he better answer so he nodded as much as he could manage and shit if that wasn't another tear trailing down his cheek but he couldn't seem to move otherwise he would have wiped it away_

_He only managed to regain the movement of his limbs when Bobby let go of him and turned away, apparently still pissed with him and he sagged a little leaning against the wall and managed to wipe away the wetness just before Bobby turned and faced him again._

_He folded his arms across his chest in the hope that it would hold him together and tried to look at Bobby but his eyes couldn't make it passed his knees._

_"What do I do with this Bobby? You tell me, how do I live with this?"_

_Bobby closed his eyes then and sighed before looking up at him and Dean noticed his eyes were softer and glistening a little which made him feel a little less crappy about being such a girl and allowing Bobby to reduce him to tears for like the tenth time that year._

_"I don't know son. I don't know."_

----------------------------------

Sam and Ellen lean side by side against the fence, gazing across the field feeling the sun gradually grow warmer on their backs. It would have felt good, comforting even if it wasn't for the sense of foreboding that haunts their thoughts. The scene is so calm and peaceful it's as if the earth is taking a deep breath, drenching it's lungs and blood with oxygen and life and energy before it is plunged into the suffocating depths of shadow.

Sam can't shake off the terror in his gut. It's always there now and he wonders how long before it sends him mad.

Ellen sighs and Sam tenses sensing a question about to be aimed in his direction.

"So, Sam, how you doin' with all this?"

He hadn't expected it to be so blunt, so honest, he'd expected subtlety but maybe it was too late for that.

He doesn't know how to answer the question so he doesn't, just continues to stare straight ahead.

"Listen Sam, I know you're angry with him but..."

Sam's head whips round to his left to face Ellen.

"I'm not angry with _him_, I'm angry with..."

His voice trails off and he shakes his head.

"Who? Everyone else? Your dad? Yourself?"

"Ellen, can we _not_ talk about this?"

Ellen shrugs.

"Sure. Sorry. I just figured you might want to. I mean isn't that why you let me come with you?"

Sam chuckles shaking his head again and he turns around so that his back is against the fence and Ellen turns with him.

"I just keep thinkin' maybe if I'd been a better person, a better brother, less of a pain in the ass... I dunno maybe I could've saved him."

"You giving up already Sam? Sure don't sound like a Winchester to me boy."

"I'm not giving up. I'm just afraid that _he_ has. I don't get it. Why won't he fight?"

"Maybe he's done fighting. Maybe this time you're gonna have to fight _for_ him."

"I'd do anything for him Ellen. And he knows that. He knows how important he is to me."

Sam's voice is wavering and his legs feel too heavy, weighed down by too much guilt, too much pressure and expectation so he takes a few steps to his left and sits down on the bench placed considerately next to the field, holding a worn plaque dedicated to some guy Sam really doesn't give a shit about.

Ellen sits next to him watching him carefully gauging his body language, trying to decide if he can deal with what she's about to tell him.

"Bobby's worried about him, Sam. He thinks his life's worthless."

Sam shakes his head denying what he already knows to be true.

"No. No, you're wrong. Dean knows I love him. He's my brother, he knows."

"Sam, I'm sure he does but that doesn't change the fact that he doesn't think he's worth it. At least that's what Bobby..."

"What the hell does Bobby know huh Ellen?"

"Well a lot, apparently. Just after the two of you showed up at his place he confronted Dean about the deal he made."

Sam frowns remembering.

"Yeah, I had a feelin' something was up. It was the way Bobby looked at him..."

"Yeah well Bobby found somethin' out about your brother. He seems to think that now he's sacrificed himself and his soul for you that maybe now his life will mean somethin'. And by that I'm guessing he didn't reckon it did all that much before."

"He said that?"

Ellen winces at the tears that have suddenly appeared in the boy's eyes and she smiles sympathetically but doesn't say a word.

"He really thinks that?"

He shakes his head the tears coming close to overflow.

"If that's what I'm up against then what chance do I have?"

"You can't think like that Sam. Now's the time that you need to be strong - more than ever."

"I don't feel strong; I don't feel strong at all. All I feel is tired and... and old. My Mom's dead because of me and I can't even remember her, my Dad died after I told him to go to hell and now my brother's gonna die so that I wouldn't have to and he's all I have left and I'm gonna lose him and I have no one to blame but myself. I don't know what to do anymore, I just want to scream and scream and I can't help him, he's so fucked up because of me and I don't know what to do Ellen. I don't know what to do..."

He leans forward resting his elbows on his knees and buries his face in his hands and he doesn't give a shit that Ellen is there and is seeing him so weak, he doesn't care about anything anymore he just wants his Mom and his Dad to show up and make everything alright and he wants it all to end and he wants it to stop hurting so he cries - he cries for his dead parents and all the other people who are dead because of him, for that hunter, Wandell who's daughter will never know what happened to him, for Caleb, and for Pastor Jim and that innocent girl who's name that murdering bitch of a demon stole and for Madison and Andy and Ash and for Jessica and he cries for his brother and his soul and he doesn't even try to cry quietly because it all hurts so fucking much.

Ellen says nothing but put's her arm around the sobbing boy next to her and rests her head on his and tries her best not to cry with him.

----------------------------------

"What exactly is it you think you should have done?"

"I dunno. Yelled at you more. Smacked you a little harder - I'm not sure but I let you down kid, and I'm sorry."

Dean shakes his head unable to speak anymore and not really understanding.

--------------------------------------

_Dean found his brother lying on his back staring at the ceiling looking pretty miserable._

_He sat up suddenly when Dean entered the room and took a swipe at his eyes, trying and failing to not let Dean see._

_"Dude, what's up?"_

_He flopped on to the other bed nearest the door and laid on his side, his hand propping his head up._

_"Nothing."_

_Dean sighed and rolled on to his back. Shit he was tired; he really needed to sleep but right now didn't fancy his chances._

_He glanced across at Sam who was still sat up on his bed staring straight ahead, his eyes flicking back and forth as if trying to decide whether to speak or not._

_"Are we gonna be ok Dean? Are **you** gonna be ok?"_

_"We'll be fine, Sammy." _

_Dean didn't take his eyes off the ceiling because he knew if his little brother saw them the lie wouldn't be believed._

_Sam sighed heavily and laid back down on his pillow his hands tucked behind his head._

_"He really let you have it huh?"_

_"You heard all that?"_

_Sam winced._

_"He's right though man. None of this is your fault. You have to get that into your head. I know it's killing you. It's killing me too but...you have to quit blaming yourself."_

_Dean blinked a little before whispering a weak response._

_"Yeah."_

_He didn't have anything else to offer and he hoped it would be enough because that was the best he could do. He wasn't sure if Sammy believed him or not. He thought probably not but maybe it would be enough for them to keep going. To pretend everything was cool and back to normal because what choice did they have?_

----------------------------------------

Sam and Ellen return to find Dean and Bobby researching the latest occurrences of supernatural phenomenon on Sam's lap top and trying to find a place to start. Dean tries repeatedly to find a hit in the search engine but it appears there's nothing out there right now. Bobby looks over Dean's shoulder frowning. Either way it isn't good.

The younger of the two glances up as his brother enters the kitchen and their eyes meet briefly before Sam looks away, aware of the redness and swelling around his eyes, knowing that it was obvious to anyone with any from of visual ability that he had recently been sobbing like a small child, frightened, lost and alone, only wishing for his family to be together and whole once more.

Dean looks back at the lap top and tries to concentrate on the task as Sam heads off to their bedroom.

Ellen sits at the table with the two men and eyes Dean who is still staring at the computer screen but not really seeing what is displayed there.

Bobby and Ellen exchange glances and then Ellen jumps a little when Dean angrily swipes the newspaper that Bobby had been reading off the table and on to the floor.

"_**Damn it**_!"

He scrubs a hand across his face and the without another word gets up and leaves.

Sam sits on the edge of his bed, back to the door, staring straight ahead feeling empty and numb and uncertain of what to do with himself. He hears the door creak open and flinches closing his eyes instinctively knowing who is entering the room. He doesn't look up but sees the pair of boots walk around in front of him as the owner of them sits on the opposite bed.

Sam's filled with the urge to grab his brother and flee, run far and fast to the ends of the earth where maybe no one will find them not even her and he laughs to himself as he realises how stupid that sounds.

"Somethin' funny little brother?"

Dean's voice is surprisingly soft and low - he'd expected irritation or anger but this, this is different. This isn't how his brother normally sounds and he doesn't think he likes it all that much.

"Did you believe me Dean? When I said I would get you out of this?"

"Doesn't matter what I believe Sam. It's not gonna happen and you need to start accepting that."

"Why the hell should I?!"

Sam's head jerks up, furious and he fixes Dean with his best pissed and scary face.

"How the hell do I just accept that Dean?"

Dean doesn't know the answer to that question so he says nothing.

Sam shrugs defiantly.

"I meant what I said Dean. I'm gonna find a way out of this. Maybe _you_ should start accepting _that_."

Dean winces. He wonders if he and Sam will ever again have a conversation that doesn't end in anger. A talk that isn't about death or dying and doesn't end up reducing one of them to tears. He wonders if they'll ever be able to laugh at each other again, to rag on each other and be able to forget the weight, the burdens that they both now must carry.

"Is this it for us now Sam? We gonna spend my last year bitchin' at each other. You gonna be mad at me for the rest of my short assed life cos I don't know if I can do this man?"

Sam blinks rapidly and looks at his feet.

"I'm not mad at you, Dean. I'm not. Really."

He breathes out shuddering and looks up into his brother's eyes and tries to convince him of what he knows Dean needs to hear.

"I'm_** not**_ mad at you."

He looks away again then his forehead creasing.

"I just..."

He wipes at his eyes, sniffing.

"I understand why you did what you did Dean, but I just can't accept that that's it. I'm not ready to just give up on you. Hell, I'll never be ready for that."

"What makes you think you even have a choice? I mean if we mess with this then who knows what will happen."

"Can it get any worse?"

"Actually yes. She warned me Sam, she made it perfectly clear. I try and get out of this you'll die and then we'll be back to square one and I am so not going there again."

"Yeah? Well too bad cos I don't care."

"Sam please."

Dean glares at him and Sam's reminded of a time that seems long ago when it was his own fate they were discussing, Sam having just discovered the huge burden their father had placed on Dean's shoulders; shoulders that were already too weighed down, too weakened by an overload of pressure and responsibility and it was the only time he can remember when Dean looked at him like that eyes pleading, begging him. He had been so angry with him then; angry for giving him the news, angry for not telling him sooner and he had allowed Dean to bear the guilt of that although he new it was a load that should never have been handed to him.

"I can't...I won't go through that again - I can't. Please."

His voice sounds so weak and he swears his brother is on the verge of tears but so what because he is too and though he doesn't want to deny his brother this time, he wants to give him what he needs but this time it's different and what Dean needs and what he thinks he needs are not the same.

"Yeah? Well I can't go through losing you either so I guess we have a problem don't we?"

"Sam..."

"Let me try."

"Not gonna happen Sam."

"Fine."

Sam shrugs an odd expression on his face. Almost sarcastic and it sends a shiver through Dean.

"Fine. That's the way you wanna play it then I guess I'll be coming with you."

"_**What**_?"

Dean's expression is exactly what Sam had hoped for and expected and he leans forward a little, the almost psychotic determination in his eyes not even dampened by the tears that are so close to spilling.

"I'm _**coming with you**_."

Sam knows exactly which buttons to push to reach his brother. It has always been the same, whenever he was trying to get Dean to take care of himself the only thing that ever worked was to flip the situation and make it about Sam. He knew it was manipulative and to some would even appear selfish but he knew that using his big brothers capacity for guilt and undying need to protect his younger sibling from all kinds of hurt was the only way to get Dean to put himself first for a change. It made him feel like shit, messing with his brother's insecurities but it generally worked so he figured it was worth it.

Dean looks disgusted.

"I don't think so, Sam."

Sam isn't giving in and gets up and starts to pace a little hoping it will emphasise the point.

"Oh, _I _do. I figure I'll do a little deal of my own. I'll summon her and trade my soul for say... uh I dunno... Bobby and Ellen to get married and have loads of babies or something."

Sam's starting to sound a little crazy but still determined as hell and it scares the shit out of Dean.

"You're kidding right?"

"What you're the only one who can make a deal?"

Sam stops pacing and throws his arms out to the side in the way that only Sam can.

"No, I meant about the babies."

He frowns a little and shrugs.

"Well maybe a brood of Labrador pups then but it doesn't matter. Choice is yours Dean. Let me find a loophole or you got yourself a room mate for the whole of eternity."

Dean's annoyed again and gets up so he can be face to face with his annoying little shit of a brother.

"Ok listen carefully. I'll try to make this as simple as I can for you. I made the deal so that you could live, you moron, not follow along behind me like a lost puppy."

"_Live,_ Dean? What kind of_ life_ am I gonna have knowing you're in Hell. I may as well be there with you."

They stare furiously at each other for a few seconds before Sam softens his gaze and shrugs.

"It's up to you, man. Either you let me help - or I'm coming with."

Dean sits heavily back on to the bed.

"You're a real pain in the ass anyone ever tell you that?"

Sam sits also, opposite, mirroring his position.

"Yeah, you. All the time."

Their eyes lock and Sam thinks he sees his brother smile a little and he tries to smile back even though he doesn't really feel like it.

"If I lose you Dean, I won't be ok. I won't _ever_ be ok. You care about me at all you'll let me do this."

Dean breaks eye contact and looks at his feet muttering just loud enough for Sam to hear.

"Manipulative little bitch."

Sam's response however is crystal clear.

"Dumb assed jerk."

------------------------------

It's nine thirty pm and the four hunters still haven't found anything to hunt. There's nothing out there, it's strangely, unnaturally quiet but they know it won't last. The whiskey emerged around an hour ago and it didn't take long for sobriety to fade away and the bickering to start. Again. Bobby had suffered as much as he felt he and Ellen could until his patience finally grew thin and he landed each of the two squabbling boys a swift smack to the backs of their heads before ordering them to take their drinks and go outside until they could both learn to be civil.

The brothers had rubbed their heads in unison, scowling like a couple of teenagers, Bobby had thought and it had taken all of his resolve to keep his stern face on until the two of them had skulked off outside to sit on the front step. He had then turned to Ellen with a wink who promptly collapsed. They didn't stop laughing until ten minutes had passed.

Sam and Dean though aren't laughing. They sit side by side on the step trying to be annoyed but in fact the evening air is pleasant and soothing and they don't really mind being banished from the house although they would eat shit before admitting it. It doesn't do much for their irritability though and Sam continues to grumble and complain about something that Dean doesn't give a rat's ass about.

"Sam. Will you please shut up."

Sam pulls a face.

"_You_ shut up."

"It's your fault we're stuck out here. Because you're such a huge, giant baby."

"You started it. You know when you licked your finger then stuck it in my ear. You know, Dean some people don't like that."

"Is it my fault you don't have a sense of humour, huh, Sammy?"

"It's _**Sam**_."

"Sorry what, Sammy?"

"_**Sam**_..."

"What's that, Sammy huh?"

"It's **SAM**!"

Sam emphasises his point by smacking his brother in the head who responds by shoving Sam in the arm and Sam shoves him back and then Dean smacks Sam in the side of the head and Sam pushes his hand roughly into Dean's face pushing it as far away from him as he can until Dean angrily slaps it away.

"You're such a girl Sam."

"Am not."

"Are too."

"Am not.

"Are."

"Not.

"That the best you can do college boy?"

"Yeah, well at least I'm not...not...um..."

Sam swallows visibly.

"You _suck_."

Dean pulls a face at his brother and knocks back the rest of his drink and he tries to stand to go and get another but his knees aren't quite up to the task and he drops back down again grunting. They sit in silence for some time Sam's head spinning a thousand things he wants to say but none of them seem to want to come out. He doesn't know how to articulate them and the alcohol isn't really helping but it is making him think far too much about everything. Everything that has happened since all hell broke loose and everything that happened before and how is he going to fix it and why does his brother have to be so messed up in the head? Words return to him, words from his brother which made him despair and feel anger all at the same time and he feels angry again because he never really addressed them because they hurt too much to hear and they hurt even more to acknowledge and he just wanted to pretend they had never been spoken. Alcohol has a funny way though, of taking off the lid and throwing everything back out there again making it impossible to ignore and he can't fight the urge to bring this up one last time.

"I heard you."

"What?"

"I remember what you said to me. Yesterday. It's messed up Dean, _you're_ messed up."

Dean doesn't say anything just chews on his lip.

"Is that what you really think, Dean? That you screwed up - that you let me down? Let dad down?"

He turns to Dean his face pinched but Dean keeps his eyes averted.

"I had a job to do..."

"Yeah and you do it day after day..."

He swallows again.

"...after day..."

Dean's head spins round to face Sam.

"I watched you die Sam! I was too late."

"Wasn't your fault."

"Whatever Sam."

"What do I have to beat you around the head with this? Damn it, Dean, you can't stop every bad thing from happening."

Dean pushes himself up on to his feet and walks a few feet away angry, infuriated and surprised that he didn't falter this time.

"I was supposed to save you."

He turns to face Sam and wonders at what point Sam slapped on his puppy dog face and why he hadn't noticed. He looks down into the too innocent hazel eyes and sees his baby brother who he was supposed to protect, to keep safe from all kinds of harm, who he had failed in the most horrible way and who had still managed to forgive him anyway.

"You did."

"You said it yourself Sam, how can I call this saving you. You weren't supposed to find out but I even managed to screw that up too."

Sam shrugs cheerfully.

"None of that matters anymore because now I'm gonna save _you_. I meant what I said. I don't care what it takes, I'll find a way."

He lifts his empty glass in the air as if toasting the fact and waves it at Dean and then tips it back attempting to drain the last dregs which disappeared down his throat five minutes ago. He looks at the glass frowning, shrugs then gets up, entering the house for a re-fill leaving Dean to stare out into the night.

But Dean doesn't think he wants to be saved. He sure as hell doesn't deserve it. He went along with it at the cemetery for Sam's sake. Smiled and nodded like it would be ok because he owed him that much. But it doesn't matter because Sam can't save him. He has a feeling that the universe won't give a shit how determined Sam is to fight the deal. Sam will fight and solider on but in the end it won't mean a thing. It's a battle that he can't win because in the end the battle will be won with his deeds, his actions and his mistakes not empty though heartfelt promises. Sam can't fight what has been done because it's bigger than either of them and what it boils down to is whether or not Dean deserves to be dragged out of the mess he has created and he knows without a doubt that he does not. He did this all by himself and now he's more than happy to live with the consequences. Sam's alive that's all that he ever cared about and he will die happy knowing that.

Sam returns with half a bottle of whiskey feeling triumphant that he managed to sneak in, crawl behind the couch, swipe the cheap bottle that he didn't realise Bobby had deliberately left out for them while he and Ellen supped the good stuff and scramble back out again without being seen. He sits down before refilling his brother's drink, his own already dangerously close to spilling.

Dean takes a sip then screws up his face.

"Dude you swiped the wrong booze."

"What?"

"Man, you're useless."

"Yeah, well I had to be quick - I didn't want Bobby to see me."

Dean raises an eyebrow.

"Yeah, cos you're real stealth like aren't y' sasquatch?"

Sam's eyes widen.

"Yeah... well at least I'm not short."

"Sam, I am _not_ short - I'm over six foot."

"Six foot with your boots on."

"You're a dick."

"Well... you're short."

"I am not short."

"Are too."

"Am not."

"Are."

"Geez, Sam, I can't believe that I'm stuck out here with you."

"Yeah? Well I can't believe I'm stuck out here with YOU!"

Sam turns to Dean his eyes wide like he just said something really significant.

Dean puts down his drink and snarls at Sam who deliberately and purposefully smacks him in the shoulder and then cocks his head to the side as if daring his older sibling to retaliate.

"Right, that does it."

A second later, Dean's on top of Sam launching him off the step and the two of them are rolling around on the ground, Dean growling and Sam grunting.

"You're dead meat little brother."

"Get off me... you... _**prick**_. Argh... I'm gonna...kick your little... 5' 12"... _**ass!**_"

"In your dreams, sweetheart."

Eventually Dean gets the upper hand and sits astride his brother who is flat on his back his arms pinned by Dean's knees. He begins to nip at his chest in true jungle torture fashion and Sam shrieks like a twelve year old girl.

Dean laughs until Sam begs for mercy just as Dean knew he would.

"Say it."

"Fuck you!"

"Say it Samantha."

He gives him another nip and Sam squeals again.

"_**Say. It**_."

"What, are you _**twelve**_?"

"_**SAY IT**_!"

"Alright, alright, you jerk..."

Sam struggles one last time earning him another nip.

"Sammy..."

"Ow alright... Dean...rocks and...Sam..."

"Ah-ah. Say it properly."

Sam mumbles something incoherently.

"_**Sam**_."

The youngest Winchester then huffs out a furious breath before hissing quickly between clenched teeth.

_"Dean rocks and Sammy sucks."_

"YES!"

"Now, get off me you dick."

Dean grins triumphantly before shifting his position and Sam wastes no time in shoving his big brother off him who falls back on to his ass still laughing and Sam sits up wincing and rubbing at his chest.

"I hate you."

"Aw, Sammy. Every time, dude."

Sam eventually relents and can't fight the grin and soon his laughter matches his brother's.

"Man, you are such a jerk."

Sam shakes his head still chuckling and they sit there, eyes fixed on each others for a few blissful seconds, the clouds temporarily lifted, the weight eased, but it's fleeting and the moment fades with Sam's smile, his emotions abruptly turning upside down as the alcohol starts it's come down on his brain and he ducks his head, whiskey induced tears suddenly filling in his eyes. He sits quietly for a short time and Dean just watches, his own grin slipping away and then Sam suddenly takes in a painfully hitched breath before pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes.

Dean frowns and pushes up so he can crouch in front of his brother. He could never stand to see Sam cry and it always tears at his heart even when he knows it's the drink that's partly to blame.

"Hey, come on man, don't do that."

Sam shoulders start to shake and Dean grabs the back of his head with one hand the other wrapping around his back pulling Sam close to him.

"Sammy, please don't."

"Dean."

Sam sobs and Dean rubs his back and strokes his hair, his own eyes now burning.

"It'll be ok man, I promise."

"No. It won't."

He tightens his arms around his little brother screwing his eyes shut, holding his position, keeping the screaming inside, remaining still, strong for Sam. A minute passes then Sam's tears dry up as quickly as they had begun and he pulls away from Dean keeping his head lowered. Dean reluctantly lets him go disturbed by his little brother's emotional extremes and he lifts Sam's head giving him no choice but to look him in the eye before speaking, fighting to keep his voice hard, stern denying the tears in his eyes and the ache in his chest.

"_Yes_, _it will_."

"How?"

Dean rubs his hand across Sam's cheek wiping the traces of tears away and shakes his head slightly. Sam pulls away sniffing and wipes at his eyes.

They stay like that for several minutes in silence before Sam takes the initiative and stands returning to the front step. He pours his brother and himself another glass of the cheap whiskey even though he knows he's already had too much.

Dean sits next to him, gratefully accepting the glass and swigs it down without complaint.

Sam takes a sip of his own before breathing out heavily and five minutes pass before either of them speak again.

"Dean?"

"Yeah?"

"I know that I'm a little drunk but..."

"A little?"

"Shut up."

Dean smirks.

"Listen, I want you to know that it doesn't mean I don't mean what..."

He stops and swallows heavily stifling a burp which was dangerously close to producing vomit.

"What?"

"What I'm about to tell you - it doesn't mean that I don't mean it cos I do. Mean it."

"What the hell you talkin' about Sam?"

Sam turns to his brother and grabs his shirt and Dean looks back at him reluctantly, grimacing, his eyebrows knitting together.

"Dean, I need you to know...I mean I know you know but I need to tell you anyway, cos... well I just do."

Dean raises an eyebrow and Sam sighs.

"I love you man. I mean...I _really_ _fuckin' _love you."

He's close to tears again now but Dean knows they're whiskey tears and rolls his eyes at his pussy of a light weight little brother. He looks Sam squarely in they eye, placing a hand gently on his cheek and pauses for effect before saying sincerely:

"You're a Dork."

Sam chuckles and knocks Dean's hand away, shaking his head, eyes sparkling, before clapping his brother a little harder than necessary on the back of his shoulder and turning away to look out at the night sky.

"Shit head."

"Pansy."

"Moron."

"Geek."

Dean has to help Sam to bed later that night because he's too drunk to do it himself, but he doesn't mind because that's what big brothers are for. Big brothers are supposed to look out for their little brothers, keep them safe, and tell them that everything will be ok even if it won't be. Ever. He takes off Sam's hoodie and then his shoes because Sam's asleep before his head falls on to the pillow and then Dean smoothes the long hair out of his eyes. He sits on the bed for a while watching Sam sleep unable to break contact, his hand still resting on the younger's head. And then he sighs when he realises that this moment can't and won't last.

He gets up to retreat to his own bed but not before a whisper escapes his lips.

"I love you too little brother."

---------------------------------

Sam cries in his sleep tonight and again almost every night from then on.

Sometimes he cries quietly and sometimes Dean thinks the sobs are enough to wake hell but always Dean gets up and sits with him. He strokes his hair but says nothing and waits until Sam has settled back into a deeper sleep before going back to his own bed. One night though Sam doesn't settle and the sobs grow harder and he calls his big brother's name over and over. Dean can't bear to hear it any more and lifts Sam up into his arms and holds him, rocking him and wonders who will soothe Sam back to sleep when he's gone. Who will hold his little brother and keep him safe when he's rotting in hell and he thinks that maybe the deal he made wasn't for Sam after all but was actually for him and that Sam was right which makes him an even bigger asshole than he previously figured.

--------------------

One day Dean comes back with some breakfast and Sam's sat on the floor with the lap top tears streaming down his face and Dean drops the bag of food and kneels down next to his brother.

"I can't find it...I can't. I've looked and looked but there's nothing. There is no loophole. I can't save you - I can't..."

Dean takes the lap top away from Sam and sits by his side.

"Not giving up on me are you little brother?"

He puts an arm around Sam and pulls his head on to his shoulder resting his chin on the soft shaggy mop.

"Come on dude, there's still heaps of time."

Dean knows he's lying. Sam's right there is no loophole and no way out - that's the whole point but he has to give Sam something to hold on to, because it's the only thing he can give him now, hope is all they have left and he has to allow Sam to cling to this because otherwise he has no idea how they will get through the last year of his life.

-------------------

He waits until Sam is asleep before leaving. He doesn't like what he is about to do but he reckons that all his options are pretty much used up and if he is going to save Sam then he has to try something even if it is a long shot. An incredibly long shot about 10,000 miles long to be truthful. He remembers how it looked when they drove past it the previous day and the sight had haunted him.

Sam had been driving and he had simply stared transfixed as if it was calling to him, reaching into his soul but he had shaken the feeling off, berated himself for going all weird and spiritual. It had looked beautiful in the late afternoon light and Dean hadn't been able to get the image out of his head and when he had found Sam, sobbing on the floor of their room, heartbroken because he had actually believed the lie that he could save his big brother and now was facing the possibility that there was no way out of this he had decided he would try one last thing. One last line of defence which was pretty desperate considering the only person he had prayed for since he was a kid was a woman whose life he had stolen and that was only because he had felt like he should at least give her something. If it gave her hope knowing that he was offering up words on her behalf then maybe one day he could be forgiven for what he had taken from her.

He almost laughs at himself when he considers how far he has fallen if he is resorting to something he doesn't even know if he believes in or not. He tells himself that it doesn't matter though because Sam believes and he's doing this for Sam not himself. This time it will only be for Sam.

He's still surprised however when he actually arrives at the small, ancient and now creepy looking church because it's the last thing he ever would have done but has to keep telling himself why he is here and who he is here for and that is enough to eradicate his apprehension. He gets out of the car and leans on the hood staring upwards at the windows, the stained glass barely visible and uninspiring in the dim moonlight. It's dark and lonely but strangely peaceful and he wishes for a fleeting moment that he could go inside and stay there in the hope that it might spare him his fate. But he dismisses the idea knowing there is no escaping the fate that waits for him, no escaping her dogs when they come for him and he decides it doesn't matter anyway. Only one thing matters the only thing that ever mattered.

He can't remember the last time he prayed out loud and he can't remember if he ever felt like anyone was listening but he decides that he will use his voice this time as he doesn't want to risk the chance of his thoughts not being heard assuming that anyone was actually listening.

He opens and closes his mouth three times before he actually manages to say anything.

"I know...I know I never really paid you much attention before but...well, thing is I kinda need your help."

He stops for a second feeling stupid and has to force himself to continue.

"It's...it's not for me, for someone else. Thing is as you probably know what with you being all seeing and all is that...well I screwed up. Yeah I know what you're thinkin' - what's knew? But I guess I really did it this time. I know I've done some bad stuff... a lot of bad stuff and I guess you know all about that but of all the things that I've done I guess this has to be the worst. I mean it doesn't get much worse than selling your soul right?"

He takes a deep breath trying not to let the awkwardness get the better of him before he continues.

"I only ever tried to do what was right, and I know it didn't turn out that way but I never asked for this life. Hell, I don't even know if you're really listening but you gotta admit I did at least some good right? All those evil sons o' bitches that I got rid of? All those lives we saved - lives _I_ saved. And I know - I know that there were a lot of innocent people who got wasted along the way and I know I have to be held accountable for that but I've been at least some use to you right? I mean it has to count for something don't it? I know you probably don't give a rat's ass about our family, that much is obvious, and maybe all we were... all I was...all I am is just someone to fight - dispensable - a drone- a soldier but you should know that...I'm not."

He hears his voice break and the tears sting in his eyes making it difficult to focus on the church but he doesn't fight them because he knows it doesn't really matter anymore.

"I'm not... I'm not a solider. Not really - see I'm just a guy who only ever wanted his family, that's all that ever really mattered and that's why I'm here because even after everything I've done and this last stupid, bad thing that I did... I figure you could do me this one favour. See I screwed up so bad. I never figured on him finding out, he wasn't supposed to know and I guess I never thought about what it would do to him. I'm scared for him and I don't know what to do. I'm not asking you to save my ass - I know I got what I deserved but him he doesn't deserve this. He never wanted this - never asked for it, this wasn't his path. He was supposed to go to law school, marry Jessica, have a nice house, kids - not this. If you could just do this one thing, just one thing that's all I'm asking."

He takes another breath to steady his voice because he reckons if there is a God and he's actually interested in anything he's saying then he certainly won't be impressed if he's blubbing like a girl. He wipes at his eyes and lowers his head shaking it and sniffing a little and then he raises his eyes to his point of focus once more.

"I'll take whatever's comin' to me without complaint or a fight but you gotta help me out here...just...you just have to let him be ok. When all this is over and my bill comes due, he's gonna need someone to look out for him. You gotta let him be happy - find someone, get married have a load of kids the whole deal - I need him to be happy... otherwise it'll all have been for nothin'. That's all I'm askin'...please...I don't care what happens to me you can do what you want with me or let_ them_ do what they want but just...just let my little brother be ok. Please."

Then he wipes away the remainder of the tears, smiles crookedly and shrugs a little, already guessing that his words were nothing more than futile pleas thrown into the wind unheard and unacknowledged dissolving into the dark, diminishing and drifting away on the cool, night breeze. He turns then, sliding back into his car, his home, the one constant in his sorry excuse for a life and drives back to his family, back to his destiny and to his miserable fate.

Sam of course has other ideas.

**End **

**Or not **


End file.
